1 1 1 


■  I 


nil 

PRINCETON,    N.  J. 


Purchased  by  the  Hammill   Missionary  Fund. 


->  v  ** 


Barrett,  Robert  Nicholas, 

1868-1903. 
Child  of  the  Ganges 


Hindoo    Princes 


THE 


CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES 


A  TALE  OF  THE  JUDSON  MISSION 


BY 

REV.  ROBT.  N.  BARRETT 


FLEMING  H.  REVELL  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK  I  CHICAGO 

30  Union  Square  :  East  148  and  150  Madison  St. 

^ublt'sfjcrs  of  libangtliral  ILttrraturc 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress  in  the  year  1890,  in  the  Office  of 
Librarian  of  Congress,  by  Robt.  N.  Babrett. 


TABLE   OF    CONTENTS. 


BOOK  FIRST. 
Chapter.  Page. 

I.  Searching  for  God 5 

II.  The  Brahmin  directs 13 

III.  Mekara's  Story  Begins, 19 

IV.  Leaving  the  Golden  Palace, 24 

V.  The  Karen's  Story  cf  God, 30 

VI.  India, '.       39 

VII.  In  Benares,  the  Holy  City, ...  45 

VIII.  Where  is  thy  God? 51 

IX.  Visiting  the  Temples, ,  .   ,  e3 

BOOK  SECOND. 

I.  Into  the  Forest, 73 

II.  The  Sacrifice, 80 

III.  Shunning  the  Curse, . , 88 

IV.  Brahmin  Treachery  Disclosed, 93 

V.  Meeting  with  Krishna  Pal, , 97 

VI.  To  the  Taj 101 

BOOK  THIRD. 

I.  The  Belle  of  Bradford, .  114 

II.  Judson's  Call, 119 

III.  Ann  Converted 125 

IV.  Answer  to  Mekara's  Prayer 129 

V.  The  Assembly — Meeting  of  Judson  and  Ann,  ,   ....•• 132 

VI.  First  Night  in  Burmah, 238 

VII.  Events  of  the  Voyage , 144 

BOOK  FOURTH. 

I.  Learning  the  Language, , 151 

II.  Little  Roger 157 

III.  The  First  Inquirer 163 

IV.  A  Mysterious  Stranger, 170 

V.  "Worship  at  the  Shway  Dagong 174 

VI.  Interviewing  the  Golden  Face, 182 

VII.  Disappointment 193 

VIII.  Again  in  the  King's  Palace, 202 


CONTENTS. 


BOOK  FIFTH. 

Chapter.  Page. 

I.  Removal  to  Ava, 210 

II.  la  the  Death  Prison 226 

III.  Doom  of  the  Kathayan  Lover, 236 

IV.  Visit  of  the  Royal  Treasurer, 246 

V.  The  Child  of  Sorrow, 255 

VI.  The  Blood-Tracked  March 267 

VII.  A  New  Horror— Pestilence!! 274 

VIII.  Free !    In  the  English  Camp 286 

IX.  Return  to  Rangoon, . 295 

BOOK  SIXTH. 

I.  The  Mystery  Solved, 305 

II.  The  Black-sealed  Letter, 316 

III.  Yuwah  Found,— Mahree  is  Won,  . 323 

IV.  The  Mysterious  Book, 330 

V.  Relief  of  Lucknow, 337 

VI.  A  Wonderful  Change 345 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GMGES. 


BOOK  FIRST. 


CHAPTER  I. 

".North , yard  soared 
The  stainless  ramps  of  huge  Himalaya's  wall 
Ranged  In  white  ranks  against  the  blue  untrod, 
Infinite,  wonderful,  whose  uplands  vast, 
And  lifted  universe  of  crest  and  crag, 
Shoulder  and  shelf,  green  slope  and  icy  horn, 
Riven,  ravine,  and  splintered  precipice, 
Led  climbing  thought  higher  and  higher  until 
It  seemed  to  stand  in  Heaven  and  speak  with  gods." 

—Light  of  Asia :  Edwin  Arnold. 

"Ganga!  Ganga!"  cries  the  sinful  Brahmin  who 
rushes  for  cleansing  into  the  purifying  stream.  "Ganga ! 
Ganga!"  gasps  the  fainting  pilgrim,  as  from  a  distant 
mountain  top  he  hails  the  gleaming  plain  on  whose 
billowy  bosom  is  cradled  the  divine  Mother  of  all. 
More  sacred  than  the  Jordan  to  the  Israelite  is  the 
Ganges  to  the  Hindu ;  for  its  waters  are  believed  to 
cleanse  from  sin  all  who  bathe  in  its  tide.  Pilgrims 
who  come  annually  from  afar  bear  back  to  their  homes 
quantities  of  the  precious  fluid  in  their  brass  lotas  to 
be  used  when  bodily  weakness  detains  them  ;  and  thou- 


6  THE   CHILD   OF   THE   GANGES. 

sands  who  are  unable  to  attend  the  great  feasts  absolve 
their  souls  by  simply  crying  the  mystic  word,  "  Ganga  !" 
From  the  dark  depths  of  shady  dells,  from  the  burning 
wastes  of  arid  plains,  and  from  the  busy  streets  of 
crowded  cities,  five  hundred  million  voices  cry  "  Ganga !" 
Within  the  curtained  zenana,  hidden  from  sight  by  the 
purdah's  fringe,  the  little  child  in  its  swinging  punka 
is  taught  to  cry  to  Ganga  as  to  its  own  mother. 

The  Ganges  is  the  impersonation  of  the  goddess 
Ganga,  the  daughter  of  the  Himalaya.  It  is  believed 
to  be  a  gift  from  heaven  sent  in  answer  to  sixty  thou- 
sand years  of  prayer  and  severe  austerities.  Siva  was 
required  to  catch  the  descending  stream  upon  his  head 
lest  its  sudden  fall  should  tear  the  earth  asunder. 

Nor  is  the  myth  of  its  divine  origin  so  incredible  as 
it  may  first  appear.  The  Himalayas  are  the  highest 
points  on  the  earth's  surface.  On  their  vast  world 
of  crags  and  snow  is  believed  to  be  the  home  of 
Indra,  the  god  of  storms.  Extending  far  above  the 
surrounding  range,  with  their  summits  lifted  to  the 
sky  and  covered  with  perpetual  snow,  are  the  two  peaks, 
Gungootree  and  Jumnootree,  respectively  the  sources  of 
the  Ganges  and  the  Jumna.  It  seems  that  the  god, 
extending  his  frozen  arms  to  heaven,  had  caught  in  his 
icy  fingers  the  congealed  drops  from  the  clouds,  and 
sent  them  rushing  in  crystal  streams  down  the  moun- 
tain sides  to  refresh  the  burning  plains  below.  The 
Ganges  is,  in  one  sense,  the  mother  of  the  Hindu  peo- 
ple ;  because,  with  its  many  tributaries  and  divisions^ 
it  irrigates  the  great  plain  of  Hindustan,  from  the 
spontaneous  products  of  which  the  indolent  people 
derive  their  sustenance.     All  junctures  of  other  streams 


THE   CHILD   OF    THE    GANGES.  7 

and  the  Ganges  are  held  sacred;  but  where  it  is  joined 
by  the  sacred  Jumna  is  especially  so,  and  the  sanctity 
of  this  place  has  been  perpetuated  by  the  founding  of 
Allahabad,  the  City  of  God. 

On  the  western  bank  of  the  Ganges,  midway  between 
Allahabad  and  Hurdwar,  where  the  stream  rushes  from 
the  gate  of  the  mountain,  is  a  noted  grove,  the  favorite 
resort  of  religious  ascetics.  The  river-bed  at  this  point 
is  more  narrow,  and  its  waters  purer  than  below  where 
they  are  continually  denied  by  the  offal  of  the  cities 
and  the  ashes  of  the  dead.  A  landing  ghaut  of  stone 
steps  leads  from  the  water  up  the  very  steep  bank  to 
the  plain.  Here  the  scene  is  something  remarkable 
even  for  India.  The  plain,  open  for  about  a  mile 
square,  is  covered  with  a  carpet  of  green,  variegated 
with  flowers  of  the  most  gorgeous  hue.  Below,  and 
facing  the  river  is  a  small  village  with  its  ever  present 
pagoda  gleaming  above  the  branches  of  the  tamarind 
trees  which  shelter  the  village  tank.  Above  is  a  back- 
ground of  dense  forest,  whose  sombre  shade,  in  contrast 
to  the  lovely  view  without,  is  the  haunt  of  fakirs  and 
devotees  who  seek  such  lonely  and  secluded  spots  where 
they  may  practice  unmolested  their  deeds  of  self-tor- 
ture and  thus  free  the  soul  from  its  burden  of  guilt. 
At  the  entrance  to  the  wood  is  a  noble  banyan  tree 
which  extends  its  main  body,  like  a  tall  pagoda-spire, 
two  hundred  or  three  hundred  feet  in  the  air,  and,  with 
gently  sloping  sides  and  cloistered  columns  stretching 
out  on  either  side  and  far  within,  presents  the  appear- 
ance of  a  vast  natural  temple,  not  unsuited  to  the 
presence  of  gods  and  those  who  desire  to  spend  a  life 
in  solemn  meditation.     Most  prominent  on  the  western 


8  THE   CHILD   OF   THE  GANGES. 

border  of  the  plain,  and  from  which  the  whole  neigh- 
borhood derives  its  unusual  sanctity,  is  a  natural 
tower  or  unnatural  mountain  of  solid  granite.  It  rises 
abruptly  from  the  plain,  and  is  entirely  bare,  save 
where  the  rock  has  crumbled  to  decay,  forming  little 
patches  of  soil  which  support  some  scanty  vegetation. 
Half  way  to  the  summit  on  one  side  is  a  level  place 
furnished  with  a  tank,  shade  trees,  and  a  mundapam 
for  the  accommodation  of  pilgrims  who  visit  the  shrine 
on  top  by  hundreds  every  morning  before  sunrise.  The 
perpendicular  shaft  above  is  ascended  by  means  of 
steps  cut  into  the  solid  rock  leading  directly  to  the 
portico  of  a  small  temple  on  top  dedicated  to  the  wor- 
ship of  the  elephant-headed  god,  Ganesha.  The  base  of 
the  temple  is  formed  by  the  smoothed  summit  of  the  crag 
itself  from  which  natural  projections  were  left  ranged 
around  the  idol  and  used  as  altars  for  the  reception  of 
the  offerings,  rice  and  ghee  (melted  butter),  which  are 
left  in  great  quantities  by  the  pilgrims.  After  these 
have  all  performed  their  worship  and  returned  to  their 
homes  the  Brahmins,  who  are  the  representatives  of  the 
gods,  ascend  and  bear  away  the  offerings  for  their  own 
use.  Every  night  a  pandarum,  or  religious  ascetic, 
absolves  his  soul  from  the  sins  of  the  day  by  lighting 
a  lamp  before  the  shrine  which  serves  as  a  reminder  to 
the  sleeping  villagers  that  their  god  is  watching  over 
them. 

Our  story  opens  at  the  close  of  a  hot  and  sultry  day 
in  the  month  of  August,  1808.  The  sun  was  just 
setting  behind  the  dim  blue  hills  in  the  distance,  kiss- 
ing " good-night"  the  gilded  pagoda-spire,  and  darting 
its  parting  glances  beneath    the  dense  foliage  of  the 


THE    CHILD    OF    THE   GANGES.  9 

forest;  and,  for  the  first  time  since  morning,  revealing 
the  miserable  forms  that  languished  there.  As  the 
shadows  were  deepening  on  the  landscape,  and  all 
nature's  voices  lulled  to  silence,  a  gentle  dip  of  oars 
was  heard  in  the  river,  and  a  gilded  boat  glided  noise- 
lessly up  the  stream  to  the  ghaut.  A  man  arose  and 
lifted  a  woman  and  child  from  the  boat  to  the  steps, 
and  the  boatman  having  received  his  accustomed  back- 
sheesh rowed  rapidly  back  down  the  stream,  as  the  man, 
woman  and  child  appeared  on  the  plain.  The  fading 
light,  though  dim,  served  to  reveal  that  they  were  not 
natives.  The  man  appeared  to  be  about  thirty  years 
of  age,  stalwart  and  handsome;  and,  though  his  dress 
and  accent  as  he  spoke  to  the  boatman,  showed  him  to 
be  a  stranger,  there  was  a  certain  dignity  about  his 
bearing  that  betrayed  his  noble,  if  not  royal  descent. 
His  head  was  covered  with  a  luxuriant  growth  of  glossy 
black  hair,  which,  thrown  back,  revealed  a  peculiarly 
intellectual  brow  and  a  pleasant  though  serious  face. 
His  complexion  was  a  deep  brown,  and  his  eyes,  dark 
and  lustrous,  revealed  a  strong  soul  within. 

He  was  simply  but  becomingly  clad.  The  in-gie,  a 
jacket  of  white  linen,  covered  his  body,  and  the  put-so 
wrapped  around  his  waist  fell  in  heavy  folds  to  his 
ankle3,  while  the  simplest  form  of  sandals  protected 
his  feet. 

The  woman's  apparel  consisted  of  a  rich  saffron  vest, 
open  in  front,  disclosing  folds  of  crimson  beneath,  and 
a  skirt  of  embroidered  silk  wrapped  closely  about  her 
waist  and  falling  gracefully  to  her  feet.  Her  physical 
features  were  mainly  the  same  as  her  husband's,  though 
more  softened  and  less   serious.     It  was  only  when  she 


10  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

looked  at  her  child  or  its  father  that  her  countenance 
betrayed  any  depth  of  expression.  The  child  was  a 
girl  of  eight  months,  sweet  and  winsome ;  and  like  its 
parents,  bearing  in  its  face  the  distinctive  marks  of 
their  Burman  nationality. 

They  stood  on  the  border  of  the  plain  for  some 
moments  as  if  hesitating  in  which  direction  to  go; 
then,  the  father  taking  the  child  on  his  shoulder,  and 
the  mother  bearing  on  her  arm  a  basket  containing 
their  baggage,  they  proceeded  toward  the  forest. 

The  full  moon  was  just  rising  and  making  more 
gloomy  the  shadows  within  as  they  reached  the  main 
entrance  of  the  banyan  temple.  They  had  come  thus 
far  in  silence,  but  as  they  entered  the  shadow  the  child 
clung  timidly  to  its  father's  neck  and  the  woman  shiv- 
ered with  fear,  complaining  that  wild  beasts  would  be 
sure  to  devour  them.  The  man  placed  the  child  on  the 
ground,  and  still  holding  her  by  the  hand,  he  looked  out 
on  the  moon-lit  plain  so  lovely  and  still ;  then,  as  if 
inspired  by  the  enchanting  scene,  replied : 

"  Mahdri,  the  very  air  is  holy.  No  harm  can  come 
to  us  here.  Did  not  the  priests  in  the  Holy  City  assure 
us  that  we  should  be  perfectly  secure?  Be  content.  I 
know  there  is  a  Supreme  Being  somewhere,  and  though 
unable  to  see  him,  I  am  willing  to  trust  myself  in  his 
hands.  Let  us  make  here  our  couch  and  rest  till  morn- 
ing, when  some  holy  man  will  show  us  what  we  must 
do  further." 

The  woman,  thus  assured  by  his  fearless  manner  and 
confident  words,  said  no  more,  but  placing  the  basket 
on  the  ground  removed  all  its  contents  except  a  cush- 
ion in  the   bottom.     On   this  she   laid   the   child  and 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  11 

covered  the  basket  with  a  light  veil  to  protect  the  little 
sleeper  from  mosquitoes.  The  man  then  hung  the  bas- 
ket from  a  branch  above  and  tied  to  it  a  long  cord 
reaching  to  the  ground  with  which  to  rock  the  bird's- 
nest  cradle  if  the  little  one  should  become  restless 
through  the  night.  In  the  meanwhile  his  wife  had 
spread  a  blanket  between  the  projecting  roots  of  a  col- 
umn, on  which  they  reclined  to  rest,  the  father  holding 
the  cord  in  his  hand  and  gently  swaying  the  basket  to 
and  fro.  The  mother  and  child  fatigued  with  the 
journey  of  the  day,  soon  fell  into  a  deep  restful  slum- 
ber ;  but  the  man's  stronger  nature,  harassed  by  con. 
flicting  doubts  and  hopes,  could  not  rest,  and  for  hours 
he  lay  against  the  tree  looking  out  on  the  soft  Indian 
night  and  vainly  trying  to  solve  the  problem  of  his 
future  destiny.  The  pumdarum  had  long  since  placed 
his  lighted  lamp  before  the  shrine  of  Ganesha  on  the 
mountain,  where  it  gleamed  like  a  beacon  to  guide  the 
feet  of  pilgrims  to  their  destination,  but,  alas!  it  was 
a  false  beacon  luring  to  destruction  thousands  of  human 
souls  who  trusted  in  its  god.  The  moon,  shining 
through  the  hazy  atmosphere,  had  a  soft  crimson  hue ; 
and  its  mellow  radiance  seemed  to  pour  a  flood  of  glory 
upon  the  plain,  bathing  surrounding  objects  with  the 
glimmer  of  Fairy  Land.  An  almost  imperceptible 
breeze  stirred  the  branches  above  and  set  in  motion  the 
many  little  silver  bells  on  the  pagoda  whose  distant 
chimes  seemed  to  ripple  and  dance  on  the  air,  play 
hide-and-seek  among  the  leaves  and  speak  in  a  thou- 
sand piping  voices  from  the  dew-laden  flowers  of  the 
plain,  filling  the  heart  with  thought  and  memories 
sweet,  or  speaking  to  the  soul  in  anticipation  of  a  scene 


12  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

of  perfect  rest  beyond  the  sunset's  gate  of  gold.  Still 
the  man  in  the  shadow  of  the  banyan  lay  as  if  uncon- 
scious of  anything.  His  eyes  gazed  vacantly  upon  the 
plain  or  watched  the  glittering  fire-flies  darting  like 
meteors  through  the  gloomy  vaults  above  his  couch. 
Two  young  gazelles  chased  each  other  playfully  in  the 
moon-light  for  awhile  and  then  lay  down  under  the 
same  tree  with  himself,  but  he  saw  them  as  in  a  dream. 
In  fact,  all  was  a  dream.  What  reality  could  there  be 
in  all  that  loveliness  when  all  within  was  a  raging  sea? 
Ah !  he  had  yet  to  learn  that  though  in  "  a  land  where 
every  prospect  pleases,"  true  happiness  cannot  come 
where  "  man  is  vile."  Ever  and  anon  a  sigh  escaped 
his  lips,  and  then  he  heard  in  response  the  wail  of  the 
self-inflicted  devotee  as  he  held  his  lonely  vigil  far 
within  the  wood. 

"  When,  oh !  when,"  he  inwardly  cried,  "  will  I  find 
that  rest  and  peace  for  which  I  long?" 

Again  the  mournful  wail  echoed  from  the  gloomy 
depths,  so  distant  and  sad,  he  was  fain  to  believe  it 
came  from  the  troubled  chambers  of  his  own  heart. 
Thus  thinking  and  praying,  he  fell  into  a  troubled, 
half-waking  slumber. 

Such,  O  reader,  is  a  soul  without  a  God ! 


CHAPTER  II. 

"  An  old,  old  man,  whose  shrivelled  skin  sun-tanned 
Clung  like  a  beast's  hide  to  his  fleshless  bones  ; 
Bent  was  his  back  with  load  of  many  days, 
His  eye-pits  red  with  rust  of  ancient  tears, 
His  dim  orbs  blear  with  rheum." 

— Arnold. 

Next  morning  at  sunrise  the  little  family  arose,  and 
having  replaced  their  impromptu  couch  in  the  basket, 
took  their  way  to  the  river  to  bathe.  Returning  to  the 
grove  after  their  ablutions  a  strange  sight  met  their 
gaze  approaching  in  the  direction  of  the  mountain 
shrine.  A  human  being  it  was,  but  so  bent  and  mis- 
shapen with  age  as  scarcely  to  be  recognized  as  such. 
His  back  was  bent  below  the  shoulders  in  such  a  man- 
ner that  his  trunk  was  horizontal,  and  his  chin,  when 
his  head  was  not  lifted  by  force,  on  a  level  with  his 
waist.  His  brown,  sun-burned  skin  clung  about  him 
in  tough,  wrinkled  folds.  A  pair  of  linen  trousers, 
once  white,  but  now  stained  and  yellow,  reached  like 
suspended  sacks  to  his  waist,  leaving  the  remainder  of 
his  body  entirely  bare .  On  his  brow,  shoulders  and 
breast  were  painted  the  peculiar  marks,  emblematic  of 
the  worship  of  Vishnu,  while  over  his  left  shoulder, 
down  to  his  right  hip,  hung  the  sacred  cord  of  one  hun- 
dred and  eight  threads,  testifying  his  Brahmin  caste. 
The  single  tuft  of  gray  hair  allowed  to  grow  from  his 
crown  had  attained  a  wondrous  length ;  and  parting  on 
each  side  hung  down  in  front  of  his  ears,  mingling 

(13) 


14  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

with  his  snow-white  beard,  which  extended  almost  to 
his  knees.  His  right  hand  held  a  short,  stubby  bam- 
boo cane,  with  which  to  support  his  crooked  trunk  ;  in  his 
left  he  held  the  customary  brass  lota,  in  which  he  carried 
food.  He  walked  with  wonderful  briskness  considering 
his  aged  appearance,  and  as  he  approached,  his  eyes 
bent  upon  the  ground,  his  perspiring  back  gleaming 
unflinchingly  beneath  the  rays  of  the  tropical  sun,  his 
smooth  head  bobbing  up  and  down  to  the  motion  of  his 
feet  and  cane,  and  his  enormous  beard  dangling  about 
his  knees  or  flowing  around  his  back  in  the  breeze,  he 
presented  the  appearance  of  a  most  strange  and  pictur- 
esque being.  Had  he  appeared  by  night,  instead  of 
open  day,  he  might  have  been  mistaken  for  a  hobgoblin, 
or  something  worse. 

Entering  the  shade  of  the  banyan  tree  he  became 
conscious  of  the  presence  of  strangers.  He  paused, 
and  lifting  with  his  hand  the  long,  over-hanging  brows, 
he  peered  with  his  keen  black  eyes  into  the  face  of  the 
stranger. 

"  Who  art  thou?"  he  demanded. 

With  perfect  composure  the  other  replied,  "  I  am 
Prince  Mekara,  son  of  the  Golden  Face,  the  Great  King 
of  Burmah." 

"What  doest  thou  here?" 

"In  company  with  my  wife,  Mahdri,  and  infant 
daughter,  Manohara,  I  left  my  father's  royal  palace  in 
the  Golden  City,  Ava,  in  search  of  rest  for  my  soul, 
which  the  religion  of  Buddha  and  all  the  splendors  of 
my  father's  court,  with  even  the  companionship  of  my 
beloved  wife  and  child,  could  not  afford  me.  I  have 
journeyed  far,  visiting  many  sacred  shrines  and  bathing 


Burmese  Nobles. 


16  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

in  holy  waters,  but  still  unrelieved.  I  have  been 
directed  to  this  place  where  I  may  live  an  ascetic.  I 
wish  to  be  guided  in  the  way  of  truth,  and  before  taking 
upon  myself  the  vows  of  a  devotee,  I  want  full  instruc- 
tion as  to  the  nature  of  the  duties  I  am  to  perform  and 
the  reward  to  be  gained  thereby.  If  I  mistake  not, 
thou  art  a  Brahmin.     May  I  ask  thy  name?" 

"Thou  hast  rightly  judged,"  replied  the  old  man. 
"  I  am  a  Brahmin,  and  my  name  is  Asita."  Then,  as 
if  pleased  with  the  story  of  the  prince%  or  desiring  to 
further  show  his  importance,  he  continued :  "  My  race 
sprung  from  the  mouth  of  Brahma,  the  Almighty  Crea- 
tor. We  are  by  birth  pure  and  holy,  priests  and  guides 
of  men,  even  superior  to  lords  and  kings.  .We  are  the 
medium  of  blessings  from  heaven  to  men.  Without 
us  the  world  would  be  a  desert.  By  our  prayers  mis- 
fortunes are  averted,  the  sick  are  healed,  and  curses 
removed.  Though  beggars,  we  are  more  powerful  than 
the  kings  of  the  earth;  yea,  the  gods  are  subject  to  our 
prayers.  My  mission  is  to  guide  men,  and  if  thou 
wilt  follow  my  directions  thou  mayest  attain  to  the 
greatest  happiness  in  this  life,  and  dwell  with  the  gods 
in  the  next.  But  before  I  can  prescribe  for  thee  a 
course  of  life  I  must  first  know  all  the  deeds  thou  hast 
already  done,  the  shrines  thou  hast  visited,  and  the 
vows  thou  hast  paid.  But  I  warn  thee  that  thou  must 
surrender  all  earthly  enjoyment  before  becoming  an 
ascetic."  As  he  spoke  the  last  words  he  darted  a  sharp 
glance  at  Mahdri  and  the  child.  The  woman  saw  the 
snapping  of  his  glittering  black  eyes  and  a  momentary 
chill  of  suspicion  caused  her  to  tremble  from  hea.l  to 
foot ;  but  all  was  lost  on  her  husband  except  the  ques- 
tion as  to  his  former  life. 


IS  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

Mekara  invited  the  old  Brahmin  to  rest  on  his  own 
blanket,  and  having  dispatched  Mahdri  to  the  village 
in  search  of  food  for  their  morning  meal,  he  proceeded 
to  relate  the  circumstance  of  his  leaving  his  father's 
court  and  his  life  afterwards.  Old  Asita,  reclining  on 
the  ground  with  the  crook  of  his  back  supported  by  a 
column  of  the  tree  in  order  to  face  the  speaker,  gave 
attention  to  his  story  told  in  Sanscrit,  the  only  lan- 
guage common  to  both. 


CHAPTER  III. 

"  We  are  the  voices  of  the  wandering  wind  ; 
Wander  thou,  too,  O  Prince,  thy  rest  to  find. 
Leave  love  for  love  of  lovers,  for  woe's  sake 
Quit  state  for  sorrow  and  deliverance  make." 

— Arnold. 

Ava,  the  Golden  City,  under  the  rule  of  the  renowned 
statesman,  King  Minder-a-gee  Praw,  attained  the  high- 
est magnificence  of  almost  any  city  of  the  Orient.  The 
Irrawaddy,  at  this  point  four  thousand  feet  broad,  and  its 
two  affluents  connected  by  a  canal,  entirely  surround  the 
walls,  which  are  seven  miles  in  circumference.  The 
streets  are  broad,  straight  and  clean,  dividing  the  city 
into  square  blocks.  The  squares  are  surrounded  by 
tenement  houses  enclosing  within  green  plats  laid  out  in 
flower  gardens,  and  in  the  centre  of  which  stand  the 
sumptuous  palaces  of  the  nobility,  built  of  brick  and 
trimmed  with  gold.  Numerous  pagodas  towering  above 
the  tree-tops  like  great  inverted  bells,  their  snow-white 
sides  and  golden  spires  glittering  in  the  sunlight,  pre- 
sent a  most  imposing  spectacle.  The  life  within  is 
equally  as  pompous  as  the  splendor  from  without.  The 
luxurious  carts  of  the  nobility,  ingeniously  wrought  of 
bamboo  and  furnished  with  mats  and  cushions  of  silk, 
are  drawn  by  white  bullocks  in  a  brisk  trot,  the  chains 
of  bells  around  their  necks  keeping  merry  time  to  the 
motion  of  their  feet.  Fat,  burly  lords,  arrayed  in  their 
white  linen  jackets,  flowing  robes  and  gaudy  turbans, 
stalk  about  the  streets  beneath  immense  silken  umbrel- 

(19) 


20  THE    CHILD   OF    THE    GANGES. 

las  borne  by  slaves  from  behind.  Each  step  is  taken 
as  if  its  tread  would  shake  the  earth,  and  each  word 
spoken  by  them  in  the  name  of  the  king,  "  Lord  of  Life 
and  Death,"  is  expected  to  carry  with  it  conviction  of 
supreme  authority,  temporal  and  religious.  The  canals 
and  rivers,  fringed  with  luxuriant  vegetation,  are  fairly 
a-glitter  with  the  royal  boats  and  barges,  which  are 
entirely  covered  with  gold  even  to  the  oars.  Some  are 
gorgeously  striped,  and  as  they  dart  rapidly  about  under 
the  control  of  the  skillful  boatmen  they  present  a 
most  dazzling  appearance.  The  various  buildings  com- 
posing the  king's  palace  cover  an  area  of  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  square.  The  great  audience  hall  stands  in  the 
centre,  and  its  roof,  supported  by  immense  pillars,  is 
nearly  two  hundred  feet  in  height,  rising  like  a  steeple 
and  sloping  in  many  successive  stages  to  the  outer 
buildings,  which  are  the  lowest.  Every  stage  is  vari- 
ously adorned  with  handsome  carvings  in  wood  richly 
inlaid  with  gold;  every  spire,  projection,  or  cornice  is 
covered  with  gold. 

Within,  the  scene  is  awe-inspiring  beyond  descrip- 
tion. Beneath  the  great  vault  in  the  audience  hall  is 
the  throne  of  the  king,  curiously  carved  and  overlaid 
with  gold,  rivaling  in  splendor  the  famous  "  Peacock 
Throne  "  of  India.  It  is  raised  upon  a  high  platform 
approached  by  successive  nights  of  steps.  The  pillars 
supporting  the  lofty  ceiling  are  magnificent  in  propor- 
tion and  inconceivable  in  number.  Forming  a  square 
around  the  throne,  they  extend  in  long  colonnades  and 
winding  labyrinths  in  every  direction ;  as  in  a  forest, 
the  eye  cannot  see  where  they  end.  Though  of  such 
immense  size,  so  high,  and   so  many  in  number,  each 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  21 

is  delicately  carved,  entirely  overlaid  with  gold,  and 
inwrought  with  filigree  of  silver.  The  ceiling  is  also 
of  fretted  gold,  and  the  floor  of  polished  marble  re- 
flects as  in  a  mirror  the  dazzling  scene  above. 

In  this  hall  thousands  had  gathered  and  made  the 
echoing  vaults  ring  with  their  shouts  at  the  coronation 
of  the  king,  and  the  same  roof  had  reverberated  often 
since  with  the  stern  voice  of  the  Golden  Face  as  some 
poor  criminal  cowered  before  the  throne.  A  command 
to  the  executioner  and  a  wave  of  the  hand  was  all. 
The  condemned  man  is  dead  even  if  innocent.  No  one 
remonstrates.  The  king  is  autocrat.  The  religion  of 
the  heart,  the  thoughts  of  the  head,  the  words  of  the 
mouth,  the  deeds  of  the  hand,  the  babes  of  the  house- 
hold, the  fields  and  their  crops,  all  are  subject  to  the 
"  Lord,  of  Heaven  and  Earth,"  the  Golden  Face. 

In  this  hall  a  few  months  before  the  opening  of  our 
story  was  enacted  a  decree,  which  for  paternal  severity 
might  well  compare  with  the  deed  of  the  patriotic  Bru- 
tus of  legendary  renown. 

A  thrill  of  surprise  and  fear  rushed  through  the 
apartments  of  the  palace.  The  noble  and  well-beloved 
heir  to  the  throne  had  been  seized  and  ordered  before 
the  judgment  seat.  One  by  one  the  attendants  of  the 
king  crept  in  between  the  pillars  and  ranged  in  a  circle 
around  the  throne.  Their  eyes  were  dilated  and  their 
checks  ashy  with  fear  and  grief.  Not  a  word  was  whis- 
pered. Suddenly  their  keen  ears  heard  in  the  distance 
a  stately  tread  on  the  marble  floor,  though  no  form 
appeared.  Every  head  was  bowed  to  the  floor.  At  the 
eastern  extremity  of  the  colonnade  appeared  His 
Majesty,  followed  by  his  private  minister,  Moung  Zah. 


22  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

His  stately  form,  now  much  magnified  by  the  fear  of 
the  beholders,  was  carried  with  that  commanding  and 
haughty  air  which  only  an  eastern  monarch  can  assume. 
Pie  was  magnificently  clad  in  the  native  garment  made 
of  linen  and  silk,  elegantly  embroidered,  and  fringed 
with  gold.  His  turban  was  of  purple  and  red,  and  a 
blue  sash  fastened  about  his  waist  served  as  a  belt,  in 
which  was  thrust  a  short  gold  and  jewel-hilted  sword 
used  in  the  room  of  a  sceptre.  In  silence  he  ascended 
the  steps  and  took  his  seat  upon  the  throne.  Moung 
Zah,  endeavoring  to  restrain  a  feeling  of  anxiety  be- 
trayed in  his  face,  stood  by  the  throne  holding  over  the 
king  a  plume  of  peacock  feathers.  A  death-like  silence 
pervaded.  The  attendants  could  almost  hear  their  own 
hearts  beat  as  they  throbbed  with  dread.  Presently 
from  the  opposite  end  of  the  hall  footsteps  were  heard, 
slow  and  measured.  They  drew  nearer  and  nearer. 
The  attendants  looked  up.  Prince  Mekara,  between 
two  officers,  stood  before  the  king. 

His  Majesty,  placing  his  hand  on  the  hilt  of  his 
sword,  demanded : 

"Thou  rebellious  son,  is  it  true  that  thou  hast  re- 
fused to  bow  before  the  shrine  of  Buddha  and  worship 
in  his  holy  temple?" 

Moung  Zah  looked  eagerly  into  the  face  of  the  prince 
as  if  his  own  life  depended  on  the  answer  that  should 
be  made.  Mekara,  without  evincing  any  fear,  but  with 
the  utmost  respect,  replied  : 

"The  report  is  true,  O  king,  my  father." 

"What  reason  canst  thou  give  for  thus  disobeying 
the  command  of  the  king  and  trampling  under  foot  the 
religion  of  thy  fathers?" 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  23 

"My  father,"  replied  the  prince,  "I  have  worshiped 
at  the  shrine  of  Buddha  since  I  was  a  child,  even  at  the 
most  sacred  pagoda  which  contains  his  tooth,  but  all  my 
vows,  offerings,  and  prayers  to  his  image  have  failed  to 
bring  relief  to  my  hungry  soul ;  and,  indeed,  what 
could  be  expected  from  an  image  of  stone  representing 
only  a  man  who  is  dead?  Something  within  me  whis- 
pers of  a  greater  Being,  One  who  never  dies,  is  not 
seen  nor  heard,  and  yet  controls  the  worlds.  I  have 
no  knowledge  of  Him  beyond  the  consciousness  of  my 
own  heart,  nevertheless  I  will  search  for  Him  in  the 
hope  that  I  may  have  a  clearer  light.     For  that  reason, 

0  king,  I  can  no  longer  worship  a  senseless  stone." 
The  countenance  of  the  king  was  gloomy  and  threat- 
ening.    Clutching  his  sword  he  arose  to  his  feet  and 
said: 

"  No  more  !  Thou  hast  said  enough.  Death  is  the 
penalty  for  those  who  disobey  the  king's  commands. 
Nevertheless,  for  the  sake  of  thy  wife  and  child  whom 

1  love,  I  spare  thy  life,  and  not  because  thou  art  my  son, 
for  such  thou  shalt  be  no  longer.  I  disown  thee.  Let 
me  not  find  thee  in  my  palace  at  sunset.  Thou  art 
dead  to  me.     The  king  hath  spoken." 

With  one  impressive  sweep  of  his  hand  he  pointed 
to  the  entrance  and  retired,  leaving  Moung  Zah  behind. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

•'Oh,  summoning  stars,  I  come,  oh,  mournful  earth, 
For  thee  and  thine  I  lay  aside  my  youth, 
My  throne,  my  joys,  my  golden  days,  my  nights, 
My  happy  palace  and  thine  arms,  sweet  queen  ! 
Ilarder  to  put  aside  than  all  the  rest." 

— Arnold. 

The  reader  may  have  wondered  at  the  trepidation  of 
Moung  Zah,  and  why  he  exhibited  so  much  interest  in 
the  proceedings.  The  reason  is  easily  seen.  The  Min- 
ister had  often  conversed  with  the  prince,  and  together 
they  had  arrived  at  the  conclusion  related  by  the  latter 
to  his  father,  though  without  involving  any  one  except 
himself.  Moung  Zah  was  firmly  convinced  of  the  fool- 
ishness of  worshiping  idols,  and  believed  that  there 
was  a  Supreme,  Personal  God.  But  his  conviction  was 
not  so  deep,  nor  his  courage  so  strong  as  that  of  the 
prince,  who  boldly  refused  to  sacrifice  his  principles  to 
what  he  conscientiously  believed  to  be  wrong;  and  in 
the  sentence  of  the  prince,  Moung  Zah  derived  some 
conclusion  as  to  what  would  be  his  own  fate  if  his 
views  should  be  exposed. 

In  contrast  to  the  severity  of  his  father,  Mekara  had 
always  been  characterized  by  a  gentle  disposition  which 
had  won  for  him  the  universal  favor  of  the  people  ;  and 
the  knowledge  of  this  fact,  rather  than  the  reason 
given,  induced  the  king  to  make  a  show  of  clemency  in 
delivering  the  sentence  of  his  punishment. 

(24) 


THE    CHILD    OF    THE    GANGES.  25 

After  the  king  had  left  the  chamber,  Moung  Zah 
descended  from  the  platform,  and  extending  his  hands, 
while  the  pent-up  tears  flowed  down  his  cheeks,  em- 
braced the  prince,  and  expressed  a  desire  that  he  might 
be  successful  in  his  search  of  the  True  God  and  send 
him  word  in  return.  Mekara  was  now  thronged  by  the 
attendants,  who,  with  repeated  glances  toward  the 
entrance  where  the  king  had  made  his  exit,  expressed, 
their  love  for  him,  and  their  desire  for  his  welfare. 
Bidding  a  hasty  and  affectionate  farewell  to  all  in  the 
chamber  the  prince  turned  and  walked  rapidly  toward 
the  woman's  apartment  where  his  wife  and  child  were 
enjoying  themselves,  blissfully  unconscious  of  the 
cloud  overhanging  them. 

In  times  of  distress,  or  when  conscious  of  pending 
danger,  the  mind  often  comes  to  conclusions  with  mar- 
velous rapidity.  While  the  last  words  of  the  king  were 
yet  thundering  among  the  massive  pillars  and  re-echoing 
from  the  vaulted  arches  above,  the  prince  had  already 
determined  upon  what  course  he  would  pursue.  From 
a  copy  of  the  Veda,  the  holy  book  of  the  Hindus,  which 
he  had  procured  from  his  Sanscrit  teacher,  he  learned 
that  the  religion  of  the  Brahmins  in  India  recognized 
the  existence  of  a  Personal  God,  the  knowledge  of 
whom  he  was  seeking.  He  determined  that,  after 
placing  his  wife  and  child  temporarily  under  the  charge 
of  Moung  Zah  until  he  could  further  provide  for  them, 
he  would  depart  immediately  to  Benares,  the  holy  city 
of  India,  and  apply  for  instruction  to  the  learned  Brah- 
mins who  dwelt  there  in  great  numbers. 

Reaching  his  wife's  apartments,  he  stood  for  a  moment 
at  the  door  unobserved,  holding  aside  with  his  hands 


26  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

the  silken  curtains,  and  feasting  his  eyes  on  the  happy 
domestic  scene  before  him,  having  scarcely  the  heart  to 
break  it.  Seated  on  a  many-colored  woolen  rug,  im- 
ported from  the  famous  vale  of  Cashmere,  in  the  midst 
of  her  maidens,  was  the  lovely  princess,  bewitchingly 
dressed  in  her  rich  Oriental  costume,  and  playing  with 
their  infant  daughter,  Manohara,  who  sat  on  her  lap, 
laughing  and  crowing  as  babies  of  all  nations  do,  and 
reaching  delightedly  to  catch  the  sparkling  jewels  that 
dangled  from  her  mother's  ears  and  throat.  On  her 
own  chubby  arms  gleamed  a  pair  of  golden  bracelets 
of  the  most  delicate  workmanship,  and  having  her 
name  inscribed  with  inlaid  pearls  and  rubies,  the  gift 
of  the  king,  hor  grandfather.  The  child  was  the  first 
to  observe  her  father,  and  reaching  her  arms  toward 
him,  begged  to  be  taken.  The  mother  looked  up  with 
a  smiling  welcome  in  her  face,  but  seeing  his  troubled 
expression,  her  countenance  changed,  and  seating  the 
child  on  the  floor  she  sprang  hurriedly  to  meet  him. 

"  Pray,  my  lord,  wThat  has  happened  that  thou  art  so 
sad?"  and  then  with  a  woman's  quick  intuition,  guess- 
ing the  cause,  a  deathly  pallor  overspread  her  face,  and 
she  continued  breathlessly,  "  hast  thou  offended  the 
Golden  Face?" 

"Thou  hast  rightly  guessed,  my  princess,"  he  replied, 
laying  his  hands  tenderly  on  her  shoulders  and  gazing 
into  the  tearful  depths  of  her  eyes,  "  I  am  no  longer  a 
king's  son,  but  an  exile  in  disgrace,  forbidden  my 
father's  house.  And  oh  !  I  could  gladly  go  on  my  long 
search  wrere  it  not  for  parting  with  thee  and  Manohara, 
whom  I  must  leave  behind  until  I  have  found  a  place 
in  keeping  with  your  present  surroundings." 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  27 

"  But  why  must  thou  go  away?"  she  asked,  *'  may  not 
the  king  be  reconciled  to  thee?" 

"  Impossible.  I  have  steadfastly  refused  to  worship 
longer  at  the  shrine  of  Buddha,  and  for  that  I  must 
leave.  My  mind  is  fixed.  I  cannot  conscientiously 
engage  in  a  worship  which  to  me  seems  folly,  and  my 
father  will  allow  no  other." 

Mahdri  knew  nothing  of  deep  religious  conviction, 
the  only  worship  she  paid  being  to  husband  and  child. 
She  took  part  in  the  gorgeous  ritual  of  Buddhist  worship 
more  on  account  of  its  gaudy  show  and  entertainment 
to  her  child  than  from  any  motive  of  principle.  The 
condition  of  her  soul  had  never  given  her  the  least 
distress.  In  religion,  as  in  everything  else,  she  was  led 
only  by  her  husband's  wishes.  Not  realizing  the  im- 
portance to  be  attached  to  the  performance  of  religious 
duties  she  was  unable  to  sympathize  with  him  as  she 
wished.  After  hearing  his  decision  she  stood  for  a 
moment  looking  at  the  floor,  while  she,  for  the  first 
time,  thought  seriously  upon  the  subject.  Raising  her 
eyes  to  his  face  she  asked : 

"  Hast  thou  not  perhaps  acted  too  hastily?  Would 
it  not  have  been  better  for  thee  to  retain  the  Buddhist 
faith  until  thou  had^t  found  a  better?  The  hope  which 
thou  hast  now  may  be  vain  after  all." 

"No,  Mahdri,"  he  replied,  "I  was  not  rash.  For 
years  my  soul  has  been  hungering  for  something  that 
lies  beyond  this  vain  idolatry,  the  superstitious  incan- 
tations and  ceremonies  of  men.  All  is  dark  to  me,  and 
while  I  grope  in  darkness  I  cannot  expect  to  find  light. 
I  am  resolved  to  search  every  land  and  inquire  of  every 
nation  until  I  find  that  for  which  I  seek,  or  until  I  am 


28  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

convinced  it  does  not  exist.  Thou  hast  here  no  want, 
the  king  loves  thee  and  the  child,  and  no  harm  can 
befall  you.  Moung  Zah  will  care  for  you  as  for  his  own 
household.  Do  not  provoke  the  king  to  anger,  but 
remain  in  peace  until  I  can  send  for  thee,  for  I  must 
now  be  going.  Yonder  sun  is  now  dropping  behind 
the  great  pagoda,  and  its  departure  marks  my  own." 

Passing  her  he  walked  into  the  room,  and  taking  the 
child  from  the  arms  of  the  nurse  caressed  her  tenderly. 
The  little  one  seemed  to  understand  his  sorrow  for  she 
ceased  her  laughter  and  clasped  him  lovingly  about  the 
neck ;  then,  drawing  back  in  his  arms,  she  noticed  the 
tears  flowing  down  his  cheeks,  and  laying  her  dimpled 
hands  over  his  eyes,  besought  him  not  to  cry  so  Turn- 
ing at  length  to  bid  his  wife  adieu  he  was  astonished  to 
find  her  standing  by  the  door,  her  head  dress  on,  and  a 
hastily  gathered  bundle  in  her  hands. 

"Why,  Mahdri!"  he  exclaimed,  "what  meanest  thou 
by  that?" 

"We  are  going,  too,"  she  replied,  with  a  pleading  de- 
termination in  her  tone,  "  why  should  we  remain  here 
when  the  only  one  we  love  is  gone?  Oh,  please  do  not 
ask  us  again  to  stay!" 

"But,  my  love,  think  of  the  hardships  we  must 
endure,  and  the  dangers  we  must  encounter  before  I  may 
find  that  for  which  I  seek.  Nothing  is  lacking  to  thee 
here.     Surely  thou  hast  not  considered." 

"I  have  considered  everything," she  said,  "life  with- 
out thee  would  be  worse  than  death.  Have  not  our  souls 
passed  together  through  a  thousand  states  of  existence, 
and  is  it  right  that  we  shall  be  separated  now?  Where 
is  my  place  but  at  thy  side?     I  fear  not  the   dangers, 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  20 

and  will  gladly  pndure  the  hardships  for  thy  sake ;  and 
little  Manohara  shall  gladden  the  journey  when  we  are 

sad.  I  shall  care  no  longer  for  shrines,  pagodas  and 
temples,  nor  for  the  pomp  of  royalty.  Do  take  us  with 
thee!" 

Mekara  had  never  had  occasion  before  to  test  the 
devotion  that  is  in  the  heart  of  woman,  even  though 
she  be  a  heathen.  Clasping  her  to  his  bosom  while 
tears  of  joy  streamed  down  his  checks,  he  cried: 

"  Now  do  I  love  thee  more  than  over,  my  princess,  my 
jewel !  And  though  I  never  would  have  been  so  selfish 
as  to  demand  it,  together  will  we  go  out  into  the  great 
world  on  a  holy  pilgrimage,  and  may  the  Great  Being 
favor  our  quest.     The  sun  is  now  setting,  let  us  be  gone." 

So,  with  the  child,  they  departed  in  silence  from  the 
golden  palace,  but  not  forever. 


CHAPTER  V. 

"Yet  will  I  leave  a  remnant,  that  ye  may  have  some  that  shall  escape  the 
sword  among  the  nations,  when  ye  shall  be  scattered  through  the  countries- 
And  they  that  shall  escape  of  you  shall  remember  me  among  the  nations 
whither  they  shall  be  carried  captives."— Ezek.  vi:  8,  9. 

Knowing,  as  he  did,  the  minds  of  the  people,  and  ex- 
pecting an  uproar  would  be  raised  when  they  heard  of 
his  banishment,  Mekara  endeavored  to  retire  unobserved 
from  the  palace  to  the  river  where  his  own  boat  was 
always  in  readiness.  Bearing  the  child  in  his  arms  and 
followed  by  Mahdri,  he  passed  quietly  into  a  back  street 
through  a  private  way  and  proceeded  rapidly  toward 
the  river.  Having  seen  no  one,  he  was  congratulating 
himself  that  he  had  escaped  a  friendly  mob,  but  on 
reaching  the  gate  of  the  city,  great  was  his  mortification 
to  see  the  wharf  swarming  with  almost  the  whole  popu- 
lation of  the  city.  The  news  had  spread  like  magic, 
and  this  was  to  be  his  parting  salute.  The  people  over- 
came for  a  moment  their  dread  of  the  king,  and  with 
great  shouting,  and  vehement  gesticulations,  pro- 
claimed Mekara  as  their  sovereign,  and,  with  uplifted 
hands  crowding  around  him,  implored  that  he  would 
return  and  be  their  ruler,  promising  to  depose  the  king 
if  he  would  only  accept  the  throne  and  relieve  them 
from  the  grievous  bondage  imposed  upon  them  by  the 
"  Lord  of  Life  and  Death." 

Much  grieved  at  this  meeting,  which  he  would  gladly 
have  avoided,  the  prince  mounted  the  steps  of  a  pagoda 
and,  addressing  them  as  brethren  and  friends,  besought 

(30) 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  SI 

them  to  remain  faithful  and  obedient  subjects  of  the 
king,  his  father.  "For,"  he  said,  "you  are  all  laboring 
under  a  worse  bondage  than  that,  and  if  I  should  re- 
main/ though  made  a  king,  I  should  be  in  greater  bond- 
age than  all.  There  is  a  better  way  of  ruling  than  by 
fear,  and  a  more  efficient  means  of  subduing  than  the 
sword.  I  go  in  search  of  greater  light  and  knowledge 
than  that  which  came  to  Buddha  under  the  bo-tree 
when  he  saw  the  streams  of  hi*  existence  down  through 
the  past.  More  important  to  us  are  the  concerns  of  the 
future.  I  can  do  you  greater  good  by  finding  and  com- 
municating to  you  the  true  knowledge  of  the  soul  and 
its  destiny  than  by  sitting  on  a  throne.  My  going  may 
secure  to  you  peace  and  happiness ;  my  staying  is  cer- 
tain to  produce  war  and  confusion  without  end.  There- 
fore, 0,  my  people,  return  in  content  to  your  homes 
and  allow  me  to  depart  that  I  may  aid  in  bringing  to 
us  all  inward  peace.  Till  then,  0,  my  people,  fare- 
well!' 

The  crowd  no  longer  forcibly  interfering,  the  prince 
proceeded  to  his  golden  boat  at  the  wharf,  and  taking 
his  little  family  on  board,  bade  the  boatman  to  row 
them  quickly  down  the  stream.  The  people  stood 
watching  the  little  craft  as  long  as  it  could  be  seen, 
waving  their  turbans  and  calling  entreatingly  to  the 
prince. 

Mekara  viewed  with  unutterable  sadness  this  parting 
scene.  The  Golden  City  never  appeared  more  beautiful. 
The  palatial  residences  of  the  nobility,  embowered 
within  their  groves  of  mango  trees,  the  gleaming  white 
pagodas,  and  the  glittering  turrets  of  the  king's  palace, 
all  against  a  back-ground  of  crimson-and-gold  sunset 


o2  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

sky,  fading  gradually  away  into  the  approaching  twi- 
light, formed  a  picture  never  to  be  forgotten.  By 
degrees  the  songs  of  the  laboring  boatmen  died  away 
on  the  evening  air,  and  the  Golden  City  with  its 
haughty  king  and  oppressed  people  disappeared  from 
sight  as  the  boat  glided  into  the  shadow  beneath  the 
banks  of  the  Irrawaddy. 

They  had  come  thus  far  in  silence,  the  prince  too 
much  occupied  with  his  thoughts  to  give  attention  to 
anything  else.     At  length,  arousing  himself,  he  said : 

"  Boatman,  canst  thou  land  us  at  Rangoon  within  a 
fortnight  ?" 

"  By  the  help  of  Jehovah,  I  can,  my  Lord,"  replied 
the  man  at  the  oar  with  a  low  salute. 

Mekara  started  visibly  at  the  name  of  "Jehovah." 
"By  the  help  of  whom  ?  "  he  asked,  as  if  the  language 
of  the  slave  was  not  familiar. 

"  Of  Jehovah,  Master,  the  God  of  our  fathers." 

The  countenance  of  the  prince,  hitherto  dull  with 
sadness  and  pain,  was  now  filled  with  an  eager  light  of 
joy  and  hope,  and  delighted  to  find  the  God  of  his 
imagination  spoken  of  as  a  reality  by  another,  even 
though  a  bond-servant,  he  cried :  x 

"  Listen  !  Muhdri,  did  I  not  tell  thee  that  there  was 
a  Supreme  Being  who  ruled  the  destinies  of  the  human 
race  ?  Tell  me,  boatman,"  he  continued,  "  where  is 
his  dwelling  place,  what  is  his  nature,  and  how  may  I 
obtain  a  knowledge  of  him  ?  Draw  in  the  oars  and  let 
the  boat  drift  with  the  current  till  thou  canst  tell  me 
of  this  the  object  of  my  search." 

The  man  drew  the  glittering  paddles  from  the  water 
and  crossed  them  in  front  of  him,  then  sat  thoughtfully 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  33 

in  the  stern,  his  arms  folded  and  his  eyes  fixed  on  the 
feet  of  the  prince. 

"Ah  !  master,"  he  said,  "  thou  hast  demanded  much. 
I  know  not  the  dwelling  place  of  God,  but  our  fathers 
teach  us  that  he  is  everywhere.  Of  his  nature  we  know 
but  little,  save  that  he  is  a  pure  spirit,  visible  only  to 
the  soul  of  man.  How  thou  mayest  obtain  a  correct 
knowledge  of  him,  alas !  I  know  not.  The  light  we 
once  had  is  gone  out,  and  only  a  passing  glimmer  can 
be  seen.  Tradition  says  the  light  will  return.  For  that 
good  time  I  am  watching  and  longing.  Till  then,  0, 
prince,  thy  question  must  go  unanswered." 

Mekara  was  not  satisfied.  Interested  in  his  boatman, 
he  desired  to  learn  more  of  him  and  the  "  God  of  his 
fathers."  "  Tell  me  thy  name,"  he  said.  "  I  judge  thee 
to  be  a  Karen,  one  of  a  despised  and  rejected  race. 
How,  then,  did  this  knowledge  first  come  to  thy  people 
in  preference  to  the  nobler  Burmans,  and  how  did  they 
lose  the  knowledge  once  revealed  to  them  ?  " 

"  My  name,  0,  prince,  is  Ko  Tha-By-u,  and  thou  hast 
rightly  judged  my  nationality.  I  am  a  Karen,  for  many 
years  past  a  bond-servant  in  the  royal  household  of  thy 
father,  the  king.  My  people,  despised  and  down- 
troddened  by  the  nobility,  are  banished  from  the  cities 
and  compelled  to  seek  refuge  in  the  mountains  and 
jungles,  where  some  of  them  have  become  as  wild  and 
free  as  the  beasts  that  surround  them.  Though  oppressed 
in  body  they  have  an  inward  hope  that  gives  them 
strength  to  live  on  in  anticipation  of  deliverance  some 
day.  It  was  not  always  thus.  Centuries  before  the 
throne  of  the  Golden  Face  had  ever  been  reared,  our 
people  were  the  rulers  of  Burmah.     Happy  and  pros- 


34  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

perous,  they  were  renowned  across  the  seas,  but  thy 
people  came  upon  us  with  great  power  and  cruel  weapons 
of  warfare,  taking  possession  of  our  peaceful  homes  and 
driving  us  to  the  jungles. 

"  Why  God  revealed  himself  first  to  our  people  I  know 
not.  The  memories  of  our  fathers  run  back  to  a  time 
when,  far  beyond  the  seas,  their  ancestors  lived  in  a 
beauteous  land  flowing  with  milk  and  honey.  They 
worshiped  God  with  great  splendor  in  a  temple  covered 
with  gold,  more  costly  than  the  noted  shrine  of  Buddha. 
Their  king  was  the  richest  and  the  wisest  the  world  has 
ever  seen.  The  voice  of  God  spoke  from  the  sanctuary 
cf  the  temple,  and  was  written  by  holy  men  in  books  of 
parchmexit  to  be  afterwards  referred  to  as  the  divine 
Oracles.  After  the  death  of  the  great  king  the  people 
were  divided  into  factions,  and  because  of  their  trans- 
gressions, were  allowed  to  be  smitten  by  their  enemies. 
Some  were  driven  away  in  captivity,  but  the  remnants 
of  ten  tribes  escaped  hither,  where  the  king  had  found 
the  gold,  ivory,  and  precious  stones  used  in  building 
his  palace  and  the  house  of  God.  Here  they  founded  a 
colony,  and,  becoming  owners  of  the  fertile  soil,  lived  in 
great  happiness  and  prosperity  for  many  centuries. 

"  The  sacred  roll  containing  the  revelations  from 
J  ehovah  was  preserved  and  brought  over  by  a  priest ; 
but,  through  carelessness,  while  the  workmen  were 
building  their  houses,  it  was  left  lying  upon  a  log,  where 
it  was  torn  by  swine  into  many  fragments,  which  were 
swallowed  by  the  fowls ;  hence,  they  are  looked  upon  as 
being  the  repositories  of  the  Word  of  God,  and  no  one 
lis  allowed  to  harm  them  under  any  circumstances. 
Thus  we  lost  our  knowledge  of  Jehovah,  and  all  we 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  35 

know  now  is  through  dim  traditions  handed  down 
through  two  thousand  years  of  suffering.  But  our 
prophets  tell  us  that  a  white  man  from  the  West  will 
come  some  day  and  restore  to  us  the  book,  and  tell  us 
all  its  wonderful  meaning.  Herein  lies  our  strength,  and 
to  this  we  are  looking  forward  with  great  hope.  More, 
O,  prince,  I  can  tell  thee  nothing." 

Mekara's  eyes  were  filled  with  a  strange  light  and  his 
bosom  heaved  as  he  followed  the  slave  through  his  nar- 
rative. Hearing  the  last  he  spoke  not  a  word  but  sat 
in  deep  thought,  too  full  for  utterance. 

By  this  time  the  boat  had  drifted  far  below  the  steep 
banks  that  first  concealed  their  retreat,  and  they  were 
fast  nearing  a  village  by  the  river  side.  Taking  his 
oars  in  hand  once  more,  Ko  Tha  turned  the  boat  from 
its  course  in  the  mid-stream  and  approached  the  bank 
As  the  boat  touched  the  sedge  that  fringed  the  border, 
he  stopped  and  gave  a  shrill  whistle. 

Startled  from  his  reverie  and  surprised  at  the  sudden 
stop,  Mekara  looked  up  inquiringly.  "What  is  the 
meaning  of  this  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Pardon,  master,  I  am  only  waiting  for  a  boy  whom 
I  always  take  on  here  to  aid  me  in  rowing  over  the 
rapids  as  I  return." 

Soon  a  rustling  was  heard  in  the  sedge,  and  parting 
the  leaves,  a  boy  with  deep  brown  skin,  and  half  naked, 
stood  on  the  bank  staring  like  a  startled  fawn  at  the 
unexpected  sight  of  the  prince  and  his  family. 

"  Haste,  Quala,"  said  the  boatman  impatiently,  "  step 
on  board  and  let's  be  going,  for  our  master  must  not  be 
delayed." 

Thus  admonished,  the  lad  crept  timidly  into  the  boat 
and  sat  crouching  like  a  dog  in  the  bow. 


36  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

"Why  dost  thou  call  him  Quala  (hope)?"  inquired 
the  prince.     "  What  does  that  indicate  ?  " 

"  It  may  seem  superstitious,  my  Lord,"  replied  Ko 
Tha,  "  but  at  the  time  of  his  birth  his  parents  were  liv- 
ing in  daily  hope  of  the  coming  of  the  white  man  from 
the  West,  bringing  the  lost  book  of  God ;  and  so  strong 
was  that  expectation  that  they  gave  him  the  name  of 
San  Quala,  which  signifies  hope,  and  we  fully  expect 
the  coming  of  the  white  man  to  be  in  his  day." 

"  Hope,  hope,  hope !  "  echoed  in  the  brain  of  Mekara. 
"  Look  up,  0,  my  soul !  Light  will  yet  dawn  upon 
thee." 

Ko  Tha-By-u  now  gave  himself  vigorously  to  the  oars, 
and  the  long  gilded  shell  darted  like  a  flash  down  the 
swift  current  of  the  stream,  leaving  the  moonbeams 
dancing  in  long,  glimmering  streaks  in  the  wake  be- 
hind, as  if  they  slipped  from  the  golden  sides  of  the 
vessel  itsef.  Mekara  sat  in  deep  thought  musing  with 
himself. 

"  Why  is  it  that  my  soul  lingered  so  long  in  darkness 
while  in  the  palace  of  my  father,  and  then  the  first 
light,  though  dim,  cometh  from  a  poor  bond-slave  who 
is  considered  unworthy  to  kiss  the  feet  of  a  Burman  ? 
Can  it  be  that  the  Great  Being  revealeth  himself  to  the 
poor  and  simple  in  preference  to  the  rich  and  powerful  ? 
Oh !  that  I  knew  more  of  him !  Why  delayeth  the 
white  man  his  coming  ?  I  will  go  to  Rangoon,  thence 
embark  for  India,  where  I  will  seek  instruction  from  the 
Brahmins.  If  I  find  no  rest  I  shall  return,  by  which 
time,  perhaps,  the  white  man  will  be  here.  0,  boat, 
glide  swiftly  and  bear  me  away  from  all  that  recalls  the 
yweet,  sad  memories  of  the  ignorance  of  my  child- 
nood!" 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  3? 

Mahdri  sat  quietly  by  his  side,  holding  the  babe  in 
her  arms ;  speaking  never  a  word  and  taking  no  interest 
in  the  conversation,  except  as  it  seemed  to  affect  her 
husband;  her  tender,  affectionate  eyes  gazed  fondly 
from  the  face  of  the  sleeping  child  to  that  of  the  trou- 
bled father,  one  of  whose  hands  she  held  clasped  in  her 
own  as  if  to  assure  him  of  her  sympathy.  Thus  sitting 
in  silence,  the  soft,  hazy  sky  above  them  and  the  per- 
fume-laden air  shimmering  around  them,  they  passed 
through  the  land  of  the  Golden  Face. 

The  story  of  Ko  Tha-By-u,  though  simple  and  mixed 
with  superstition,  is  both  suggestive  and  interesting  to 
a  Bible  reader. 

Solomon,  in  building  the  magnificent  temple  at  Jeru- 
salem, overlaid  it  with  pure  gold,  garnished  with  pre- 
cious stones  brought  from  the  famous  mines  of  Ophir, 
which  is  believed  to  be  Burmah.  Here  the  wise  king 
and  his  prosperous  vassal,  Hiram,  king  of  Tyre,  had 
established  trading  posts  and  planted  flourishing  colo- 
nies to  aid  in  the  easy  transportation  to  Jerusalem  of 
the  great  cargoes  of  gold  and  rich  products  of  the  soil. 

After  the  destruction  of  the  temple  and  capture  of 
Jerusalem,  when  pursued  by  enemies  and  rejected  by 
friends,  who  knows  but  that  the  ten  missing  tribes 
escaped  in  remnants  to  the  colonies  in  Ophir,  and  there 
became  the  owners  of  the  soil  as  related  by  the  Karens? 
There,  as  Ko  Tha  said,  they  lived  for  centuries,  pros- 
perous and  happy.  Certain  peculiar  traits  of  character 
among  the  Karens,  their  traditions,  and  the  form  of 
certain  words  pertaining  to  the  worship  of  Jehovah,  all 
testify  to  their  Hebrew  origin,  which  is  now  no  longer 


3S  THE   CHILD   OF   THE   GANGES. 

a  matter  of  dispute,  but  an  accepted  fact  among  eminent 
scholars. 

Before  leaving  their  own  country  the  temple  service 
had  fallen  into  disuse  and  the  Scripture  readings  neg- 
lected. In  the  confusion  and  terror  of  flight  the  sacred 
roll  containing  the  Law  and  the  Prophets  was  lost,  and 
with  it  all  knowledge  of  God,  except  through  tradition 
mixed  with  error. 

Jerusalem  was  again  besieged  and  destroyed  on  ac- 
count of  her  rejection  of  the  Messiah.  The  curse  of 
God  was  visited  upon  the  wretched  inhabitants,  who 
were  driven  homeless  into  every  land,  a  "  curse  and  a 
by-word  "  in  every  nation.  The  same  punishment  was 
also  inflicted  upon  their  brethren  in  Ophir,  who,  given 
to  money-making  and  the  quiet  and  peaceful  occupa- 
tions of  life,  were  unable  to  withstand  the  attack  of  the 
lordly  and  more  warlike  Burmans,  who  drove  them  from 
their  quiet  possessions  like  beasts  into  the  jungles. 
Because  of  their  determined  refusal  to  engage  in  the 
idolatry  of  the  surrounding  nations  they  were  hated 
and  abused,  driven  from  society,  and  cursed  by  the 
lowest  outcasts. 

For  two  thousand  years  have  they  groped  in  darkness, 
clinging  to  the  faint  light  within  their  bosoms,  waiting 
for  the  restoration  of  the  Holy  Book,  and  vainly  trying 
to  recall  the  Songs  of  Zion  in  their  wild  mountain 
homes.  Look  forward,  0,  reader,  to  the  wonderful 
providence  of  God  manifest  toward  his  people.  Of  a 
surety  he  has  reserved  unto  himself  a  remnant  who 
"  escaped  the  sword,"  and  who  remember  him  "  among 
the  nations  "  whither  they  were  carried  captive. 

"This  is  the  Lord's  doings,  and  it  is  marvelous  in  our 
eyes.', 


CHAPTER  VL 

"  That  sweet  Indian  land, 
Whose  air  is  balm  ;  whose  ocean  spreads 
O'er  coral  rocks  and  amber  beds ; 
Whose  mountains,  pregnant  by  the  beams 
Of  the  warm  sun,  with  diamonds  teem ; 
Whose  rivulets  are  like  rich  brides, 
Lovely,  with  gold  beneath  their  tides ; 
Whose  sandal  groves  and  bowers  of  spice 
Might  be  a  Peri's  Paradise  ! " 

— Thomas  Moore. 

The  story  of  "  That  delightful  province  of  the 
sun  "  would  be  the  most  interesting  and  fascinating  ever 
written.  Its  legendary  lore,  recording  the  marvelous 
exploits  of  gods  and  god-like  men,  embraces  in  its  scope 
millions  of  years,  extending  far  beyond  the  creation  of 
the  world,  and,  in  comparison  to  which,  the  most  ex- 
travagant mythologies  of  classic  Greece  and  Rome  are 
but  nursery  tales. 

Centuries  before  wandering  outlaws  founded  the 
Eternal  City  on  the  banks  of  the  yellow  Tiber ;  the 
sacred  Ganges,  in  its  majestic  course,  washed  with  its 
saving  tide  the  crowded  ghauts  leading  to  many  a 
teeming  city.  When  ancient  Greece  had  not  yet 
dreamed  of  her  Golden  Days  of  Athenian  Glory,  nor 
listened  with  rapt  attention  to  the  thrilling  tale  of  her 
blind  old  bard,  these  favored  children  of  the  sun 
dwelt  in  luxurious  splendor ;  and  yellow-robed  priests 
recited  in  Sanscrit  the  wonderful  Epos,  Ramayana. 
When  Jerusalem,  The  Golden,  had  not  yet  been  con- 
ceived in  the  mind  of  The   Sweet   Psalmist  of   Israel, 

(39) 


40  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

Benares,  the  Holy  City,  offered  daily  sanctification, 
through  its  six  thousand  shrines,  to  the  eager  millions 
who  crowded  thither. 

With  an  origin  veiled  in  the  misty  shroud  of  the 
Ages,  with  a  modern  Past  burning  with  the  recollection 
of  foreign  royalty  waving  triumphantly  over  a  suffer- 
ing land  made  fertile  by  the  warm,  gushing  life-blood 
of  its  slaughtered  inhabitants,  and  with  a  Future  that 
bids  fair  to  lift  them  far  above  their  present  benighted 
condition  under  the  blessed  rule  of  the  Prince  of  Peace, 
the  Indian  people  invoke  the  attention  of  the  present 
generation. 

Their  sacred  books,  the  Shasters,  teach  the  doctrine 
of  One  Supreme  Being,  Brahm,  whose  pure  spirit,  per- 
vading all  space,  is  the  origin  of  every  human  soul. 
And  into  this  Great  Soul  they  are  all  to  be  once  more 
absorbed  when  freed  from  the  stains  of  earth  and  the 
defilements  of  the  flesh.  Brahm  is  without  beginning 
or  end,  without  form  or  attributes,  a  purely  negative 
character.  Nevertheless,  in  order  to  the  creation  of  the 
world  he  laid  aside  his  negative  nature  and  took  upon 
himself  form  ;  as  spirit  could  not  create  matter  without 
being  united  with  it.  Says  the  Veda :  "  Brahm 
awoke  and  said,  '  Let  me  be  many !'  "  And  he  immedi- 
ately took  upon  himself  material  form  and  became,  for 
a  time,  Brahma,  the  creator. 

The  germs  of  the  universe  were  in  the  shape  of  an 
egg,  into  which  Brahma  retired  to  perfect  his  work. 
During  one  year  of  creation,  equal  to  three  hundred 
millions  of  our  years,  this  egg,  shining  with  the  bright- 
ness of  a  thousand  suns,  floated  on  the  waters  of  chaos. 
At  length  the  shell  burst  and  Brahma  leaped  forth,  a 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  41 

being  of  terrible  appearance,  having  a  thousand  heads, 
a  thousand  eyes  and  a  thousand  arms.  From  his  body 
sprang  the  four  castes  in  order.  From  his  mouth  the 
Brahmins,  who  are  the  highest  of  all  and  expounders 
of  the  Vedas ;  from  his  arms  and  breast,  the  Kshatryas, 
who  are  the  kings  and  warriors ;  from  his  loins,  the 
Vaisyas,  merchants  and  farmers;  and  from  his  feet, 
the  Sudras,  slaves  to  all  the  others. 

The  material  universe  also  escaped  from  this  lum- 
inous egg  in  the  form  of  Sargan,  a  monstrous  creature, 
whose  "  hairs  were  the  trees  and  shrubs  of  the  forest ; 
his  head  the  clouds;  his  beard  the  lightning;  his 
voice  the  thunder ;  his  breath  the  atmosphere ;  his  eyes 
the  sun  and  moon  ;  his  nails  the  rocks ;  and  his  bones 
the  mountains  of  the  earth." 

Brahma  now  becomes  Brahm  again,  and  retires  to 
eternal  slumber,  leaving  the  government  of  the  world  to 
his  representatives,  Vishnu  and  Shiva,  the  second  and 
third  members  of  the  triad  composed  of  Brahma,  the 
creator;  Vishnu,  the  preserver;  and  Shiva,  the  de- 
stroyer. 

Brahm  is  everything  and  everything  is  Brahm. 
In  thus  multiplying  himself  in  giving  birth  to  the  uni- 
verse he  "  became  many/'  the  soul  inhabiting  every 
material  form,  high  or  low ;  and  authorized  the  wor- 
ship of  the  three  hundred  and  thirty  millions  of  deities 
representing  him  to  the  eye. 

The  human  soul,  unable  to  absolve  itself  entirely 
from  the  stains  of  earth,  during  this  life,  passes,  at 
death,  into  the  body  of  a  higher  or  lower  order  of  being, 
according  to  the  degree  of  merit  attained  during  its 
former  existence.     If  it  degenerates  it  passes   into  the 


42  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

body  of  a  lower  animal,  and  is  doomed  to  undergo 
thousands  of  transmigrations  before  released.  If,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  deeds  of  this  life  are  sufficiently 
meritorious,  the  soul  of  a  person  of  lower  caste  may 
next  inhabit  the  body  of  a  Brahmin,  after  which  the 
next  death  releases  him  from  the  shackles  of  mortality 
and  his  soul  is  lost  in  the  Great  Soul  of  the  universe, 
like  the  upward  soaring  of  the  lark  that  is  lost  to  view 
in  the  bosom  of  the  sky.  Humanity  becomes  divinity. 
This  state  of  blessed  annihilation  may  be  merited  in 
three  ways :  By  works,  as  bathing  in  holy  waters,  doing 
penance,  and  feeding  Brahmins ;  by  the  worship  of  the 
gods  through  their  images  and  temples ;  and  by  sol- 
emn meditation  and  mental  worship  without  visible 
demonstration.  Religion  is  altogether  ceremonial. 
He  who  neglects  these  ceremonies,  even  though  his 
heart  may  be  pure,  is  counted  the  vilest  of  sinners ; 
while  the  most  wicked  morally,  by  keeping  these  ob- 
servances, becomes  pure  and  holy. 

The  great  wealth  and  power  of  India  formerly  belonged 
to  the  Kshatrya  caste,  composed  of  the  warlike  heroes 
and  princes  or  rajahs.  Then  wTas  the  poetic  period  of 
India,  when  the  exploits  of  famous  Maharajahs  afforded 
abundant  material  for  the  songs  of  the  bards,  and  when 
their  lovely  zenanas,  filled  with  the  fairest  of  the  land, 
evoked  the  strongest  passion  of  the  emotional  southern 
soul.  But  under  the  tyrannical  tread  of  foreign  oppres- 
sion, crushed  successively  beneath  the  heels  of  invad- 
ing Moslem  and  Mogul  conquerors,  we  find  the  down- 
trodden people,  at  the  opening  of  our  story,  servilely 
giving  allegiance  to  a  handful  of  British  merchants ; 
ambition  gone,  the  fountains  of  literature  dried  up,  and 
only  religious  zeal  remaining. 


THE   CHILD   OB*   THE   GANGES.  43 

India  had,  for  centuries,  furnished  to  the  world  her 
jewels,  tapestry,  spices  and  drugs.  After  the  discovery 
of  America,  when  a  new  way  was  opened  to  the  East 
around  the  "Cape  of  Storms,"  great  competition  in 
trade  was  raised  by  the  various  nations — tho  Portuguese 
establishing  trading  posts  and  monopolizing  tho  traffic. 

Under  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth  the  merchants  of 
London,  realizing  the  great  financial  gain  to  be  acquired 
by  trading  with  the  wealthy  Hindus,  sent  agents  to  Cal- 
cutta and  Madras  to  establish  trading  posts  for  the  pur- 
pose of  exchanging  with  the  natives  English  wares  in 
return  for  their  natural  products,  fabrics,  etc.  This 
trade  became  so  profitable  that  a  company  was  formed 
and  procuring  a  charter  from  the  English  Government 
they  settled  permanently  in  India,  bearing  the  name  of 
"  Tho  East  India  Company."  This  was  destined  to  be- 
come not  only  one  of  the  greatest  commercial,  but  also 
one  of  the  leading  political  and  military  powers  of  the 
world,  and  its  achievements  are  everywhere  viewed 
with  wonder.  By  ingenious  manipulations  they  soon 
became  possessed  of  the  principal  cities,  and  in  a  few 
years  nearly  all  of  Central  and  Southern  India  was 
under  their  control. 

The  movements  of  this  great  power  soon  attracted  the 
attention  of  tho  civilized  world  and  revealed  to  its  sym- 
pathizing gaze  the  distressing  moral  condition  of  the 
people,  and  opened  a  way  for  their  enlightenment.  The 
company  objected  to  the  preaching  of  missionaries  be- 
cause they  were  under  promise  to  the  people  not  to  in- 
terfere with  their  religion.  Nevertheless,  the  undaunted 
William  Carey,  with  his  associates,  Marshman,  Ward 
and  others,  succeeded,  after  years  of  indefatigable  indus- 


44  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

try,  in  establishing  a  mission  at  Serampore,  a  village  on 
the  banks  of  the  Hoogly,  fifteen  miles  from  Calcutta. 
Here,  on  the  22nd  day  of  December,  1800,  Krishna  Pal, 
the  first  Hindu  convert,  renounced  caste,  and,  with  his 
family,  sat  at  a  table  with  the  despised  missionaries, 
and  a  few  days  after  Mr.  Carey  enjoyed  the  exquisite 
pleasure  of  "  desecrating "  the  sacred  Ganges  for  the 
first  time  by  the  baptism  of  the  now  out-cast  Krishna 
and  his  own  son  Felix.  In  rapture  of  joy  Mr.  Ward 
was  led  to  exclaim  :  "  Now  the  chain  of  caste  is  broken, 
and  who  shall  be  able  to  mend  it  ?  "  Krishna  became 
an  efficient  minister  of  the  Gospel  and  co-laborer  with 
the  missionaries.  Felix  Carey  also  became  a  missionary, 
but  was  much  given  to  wandering,  as  we  shall  afterwards 
have  occasion  to  notice. 


ABLE  TO  MEND  IT  ?  " 


CHAPTER  VII. 


"  The  painted  streets  alive  with  hum  of  noon, 
The  traders,  cross-legged  'mid  their  spice  and  grain, 
The  buyers  with  their  money  in  the  cloth, 
The  war  of  words  to  cheapen  this  or  that, 
The  shout  to  clear  the  road,  the  huge  stone  wheels, 
The  strong,  slow  oxen  and  their  rustling  loads, 
The  singing  bearers  with  their  palanquins, 
The  broad-necked  hamals  sweating  in  the  sun, 
The  housewives  bearing  water  from  the  wells 
With  balanced  chatties,  and  athwart  their  hips 
The  black-eyed  babes." 


— Arnold. 


Gautama  sat  alone  under  the  bo-tree  after  days  and 
nights  of  anxious  waiting  and  fasting,  birds  singing 
around  him,  and  the  Himalayan  crests  glittering  beyond 
and  above  him.  "Night  came,  gloomy  and  terrible,  with 
stormy  clouds.  Dark  forms  oi  ail  the  sins  that  beset 
mankind  passed  in  horrible  procession  before  him. 
One  by  one  he  conquered  them,  and  as  the  first  roseate 
hues  of  the  morning  gilded  the  Eastern  sky,  light 
dawned  upon  his  mind.  His  soul  opened  and  unfolded 
like  a  rose,  and  he  became  Buddha,  "  the  one  who 
knows."  The  streams  of  his  past  existence  appeared  to 
him  from  the  beginning;  as  when  a  traveler  pauses  on 
the  mountain  slope  and  looks  back  through  surrounding 
mists  to  see  the  winding  path  over  which  he  came,  stretch- 
ing far  away  in  the  valley  below.  There  was  also  revealed 
to  him  the  cause  of  human  sorrow  and  its  remedy. 
Lifting  his  now  clarified  vision  toward  Benares,  the 
Holy  City,  his  heart  was  filled  with  pity  to  see  the  mad 
strife  and  suffering  of  its  inhabitants  as  they  sought 

(45) 


4G  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

release  from  sin.  "  I  will  go  first  to  that  queenly 
city,"  he  said,  "  and  preach  the  doctrine  of  the  soul's 
progression." 

Benares  is  the  heart  of  India;  daily  sending  forth, 
and  receiving,  countless  streams  of  humanity  to  and 
from  every  province  between  the  Himalayas  and  the 
Bay  of  Bengal.  Five  hundred  millions  of  people  speak 
with  awe  the  dread  name,  "  Benares,"  the  home  of  the 
Hindu  faith.  To  die  within  its  walls  secures  eternal 
happiness.  Litters  bearing  the  dead  are  continually 
swarming  the  shores  of  the  sacred  river,  and  the  smoke 
ascending  from  burning  funeral  pyres  darkens  the  sky. 

The  city  is  in  the  shape  of  a  crescent  and  fits  like  a 
cap  on  a  great  bend  of  the  river.  It  is  three  miles  in 
front,  from  horn  to  horn,  and  one  mile  in  depth.  A  vast 
amphitheatre  bordering,  with  stone  ghauts,  the  bank  of 
the  river,  and  rising,  in  successive  stages,  to  the  lofty 
temples  crowning  the  cliffs  beyond,  it  fills  the  eye  with 
wonder  and  delight. 

Its  history  can  be  traced  back  through  three  thousand 
years.  The  Brahmins  assert  it  to  be  coeval  with  crea- 
tion, and  that  it  does  not  stand  with  the  rest  of  the 
earth  upon  the  back  of  the  great  tortoise ;  but  is  upheld 
on  the  point  of  Shiva's  trident,  on  account  of  which  cir- 
cumstance it  is  believed  to  be  indestructible.  Never- 
theless, with  all  its  magnificence  and  reputed  sanctity, 
it  is  only  a  faint  picture,  a  dim  reflection  of  the  true 
Benares,  which  stands  on  a  vast  plain  midway  between 
Earth  and  Heaven. 

Benares  is  the  city  of  a  thousand  temples  ;  temples  on 
the  river ;  temples  on  the  outskirts,  temples  in  the  center, 
temples  crowning  the  heights.     And  the  great  golden 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  47 

temple,  built  of  dark-red  sandstone,  capped  with  a  tall 
golden  spire  surrounded  by  a  cluster  of  smaller  ones, 
gives  the  appearance  of  a  great  gilded  pine-apple,  in  the 
center  of  which  is  inclosed  the  shrine  of  the  god.  Innu- 
merable hordes  of  mischievous  monkeys  are  worshiped 
as  gods,  and  every  house  is  a  monkey-temple,  on  the  roof 
of  which  are  built  the  little  cots  in  which  they  live,  and 
from  which  they  sally  to  descend  upon  the  streets  and 
commit  all  manner  of  depredations  unmolested.  An 
insult  offered  to  a  monkey  thus  engaged  is  punishable 
with  death. 

Great  white  bulls,  also  held  as  sacred,  infest  the  nar- 
row streets,  perfectly  at  home  in  the  crowded  throngs, 
among  whom  they  force  their  way  by  the  unscrupulous 
use  of  their  broad  horns.  The  grain  merchant's  store  is 
not  allowed  to  be  closed  against  them,  and  they  stand 
contentedly  munching  the  most  costly  food  while  the 
owner  looks  on,  flattered  that  the  gods  thus  notice  his 
stock.  They  even  enter  dwellings,  and,  ascending  the 
stairs,  air  themselves  on  the  house-tops,  looking  out 
over  the  city  and  the  green  fields  across  the  river  as 
if  the  authority  of  the  Great  Mogul  belonged  to  them. 

The  shops  and  bazaars  are  open  to  the  street,  and  dis- 
play in  rich  profusion  all  kinds  of  quaint  oriental 
wares;  brilliant  tapestry,  exquisitely  carved  vases, 
handsomely  engraved  brass  lotas,  always  brightly  burn- 
ished, grotesque  figures  supporting  lamps,  grinning  lit- 
tle gods,  and  stern-looking  big  gods,  curious  incense 
burners,  and  mysterious  boxes,  and  inlaid  plates  with- 
out number.  Everything  bright  and  attractive  that  is 
kept  for  sale  is  displayed  to  view  and  adds  to  the  gen- 
eral decoration. 


48  THE    CHILD    OF    THE    GANGES. 

Many  of  the  streets  are  so  narrow  that  passing 
elephants  touch  the  houses  on  either  side,  some  so  nar- 
row, in  fact,  that  only  the  tonjaun,  carried  by  natives 
after  the  manner  of  a  palanquin,  can  be  admitted.  The 
houses  are  built  of  stone,  with  ornamentally  carved 
fronts,  some  six  or  seven  stories  high,  with  projecting 
balconies  of  dark  red  wood  literally  meeting  overhead, 
and  shutting  out  the  sun,  so  that,  only  here  and  there, 
can  be  seen  a  spot  of  blue  sky. 

Great  quantities  of  birds  blacken  the  sky  and  fill  the 
air  with  their  cries.  Kites  and  crows,  the  scavengers 
of  the  land,  walk  about  the  streets,  mixing  with  the 
multitude  with  as  much  an  air  of  importance  as  any 
citizen  of  the  place.  Flocks  of  pigeons  whirr  through 
the  long  passages,  or  huddle  under  the  tall  over-hang- 
ing eaves,  and  green-and-purple  paroquets  flit  from 
roof  to  roof,  their  glossy  plumage  glittering  in  the  sun- 
light. 

The  streets  are  thronged  with  a  thousand  incongru- 
ous scenes.  Tall,  handsome  men  and  beautifully  clad 
women  from  Cashmere ;  pilgrims  from  the  Decean  and 
from  the  Punjaub;  yellow-robed  priests,  white-clad 
Brahmins,  sweating  coolies,  veiled  and  jeweled  women, 
rich  Parsees,  and  long-bearded  Mohammedans — all  are 
mixed  in  indescribable  confusion.  The  clamor  is  dread- 
ful. The  traders  crying  their  wares;  priests  and 
mendicants,  one  demanding,  the  other  craving,  "back- 
sheesh " ;  the  ox-driver  shouting  to  his  laboring  team  : 
Brahmins  expounding  the  Vedas ;  the  driver  on  the 
royal  elephant  shouting,  "  Clear  the  way  for  the  Maha- 
rajah !"  fakirs  yelling;  monkeys  chattering  above  and 
mimicing  the  crowds  below ;    devotees  trying  to  repeat 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  49 

all  the  names  of  the  thirty-three  million  gods ;  deafen- 
ing gongs  clanging  from  the  thousands  of  temples; 
feeble  old  men  crying  "  Ganga !  "  with  their  fast  depart- 
ing breaths ;  and  wailing  funeral  processions  following 
the  dead,  fill  the  ear  with  an  intermixture  of  sounds 
never  to  be  forgotten. 

Here  Buddha  first  preached  his  wonderful  doctrine. 
The  cries  were  hushed,  the  sacrificial  altars  no  longer 
reeked  with  the  blood  of  goats  and  buffaloes,  and  pil- 
grims ceased  to  look  to  the  Holy  City  and  the  sacred 
river  for  salvation.  A  code  of  morL-ity  had  taken  the 
place  of  ceremonial  observances,  xdolatry  and  worship 
of  every  kind  was  forbidden,  and  right  living  enforced. 
Buddha  died  and  his  system  degenerated.  Having  for- 
bidden the  worship  of  idols  he  put  a  stop  to  all  devotion, 
the  life  of  the  soul.  Following  the  natural  instincts  of 
his  nature  man  must  worship.  Consequently  the  dead 
Buddha  was  deified.  Temples  were  erected  to  his  mem- 
ory, and  shrines,  inclosing  hairs  from  his  sacred  head, 
were  adored  by  the  devout  disciples,  and  Buddhism  be- 
came a  worse  form  of  idolatry  than  they  had  known 
before. 

At  length  the  Brahmins  rallied,  and  expelling  the 
adherents  of  Gautama  from  India,  destroyed  their 
temples  and  re-established  the  old  faith.  Once  more 
Benares  became  the  life  of  the  nations,  the  "  Mother  of 
their  faith."  It  was  made  so  holy  that  all  dying  within 
a  radius  of  five  miles  around  went  to  Paradise  regardless 
of  their  own  wishes.  Even  the  hated  Moslem  and 
abhorred  beef-eating  Englishmen  were  not  exempt 
from  this  speedy  transportation  to  glory. 
4 


50  THE  CHILD  OP  THE  GANGES. 

O,  wondrous  city!  thy  three  thousand  years  of  vice 
and  magnificent  crime  are  waning  to  a  close.  Thy  gor- 
geous temples  must  soon  be  cleared  of  their  hideous 
images  to  give  place  to  yet  a  new  worship,  and  thy 
surging  multitudes  will  sing  a  new  song,  and  embrace 
a  new  faith  never  to  be  supplanted.  Even  thy  dead 
shall  find  a  sweeter  repose  than  that  on  the  Losom  of 
Ganga ! 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"Where  is  thy  God?"— Ps.  xlii :  3. 

Prince  Mekara,  with  his  wife  and  child,  reached 
Rangoon  in  good  time,  and  after  parting  from  Ko-Tha, 
who  begged  that  they  would  send  him  the  Light  if  it 
was  ever  found,  they  sailed  for  Calcutta.  A  prosperous 
voyage  soon  brought  them  across  the  Bay  of  Bengal, 
and  sailing  up  the  Hoogly,  one  of  the  mouths  of  the 
Ganges,  they  landed  at  Calcutta.  Mekara  was  in  too 
great  a  hurry  to  reach  Benares  to  spend  more  time  than 
absolutely  necessary  in  the  "  City  of  Palaces."  So 
procuring  a  boat  as  soon  as  possible  they  set  out  on 
their  journey  up  the  Ganges,  scarcely  noticing  the  pal- 
atial residences  of  the  great  social  city,  or  the  brilliant 
equipages  driving  with  lordly  magnificence  along  the 
famous  esplanade.  They  were  no  longer  interested  in 
social  pleasures. 

Benares,  seen  from  the  river,  presents  an  entirely 
different  view  from  Benares  seen  from  within.  The 
narrow,  crowded  streets  are  hid  from  view,  and  there 
can  only  be  seen  the  ornamental  roofs  of  the  houses  and 
the  gilded  spires  of  the  pagodas,  rising  in  terraces 
above,  and  the  long  ghauts  reaching  down  to  the  water, 
covered  with  people  of  both  sexes  and  all  ages,  who  are 
passing  continually  to  and  from  the  river. 

The  prince  had  traveled  by  night  in  order  to  avoid, 
for  the  sake  of  Mahdri  and  the  child,  the  fieroe  heat  of 
the   sun,  which  was  just  rising  one  morning  as  his 

(51) 


52  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

peacock-shaped  boat  glided  into  view  around  the  bend 
of  the  river.  A  view  of  the  Holy  City,  thus  seen  for  the 
first  time  at  sunrise,  thrills  the  soul  like  the  remem- 
brance of  a  delightful  dream,  so  gorgeous  appear  the 
crimson  sunbeams  bathing  the  dark-red  buildings,  and 
glittering  on  the  burnished  spires  of  gold. 

"  Surely,"  thought  Mekara,  as  he  saw  the  heavenly 
vision  and  the  throngs  of  seemingly  happy  bathers, 
"among  so  many  devout  worshipers  I  shall  find  the 
knowledge  I  seek." 

Pushing  his  way  up  the  crowded  steps  into  the  city 
he  found  a  traveler's  bungalow,  in  which  he  placed 
Mahdri  and  Manohara,  and  ordering  refreshments  for 
them,  he  hastened  back  to  the  river,  leaving  them  to 
rest  while  he  conversed  with  the  Brahmins. 

By  this  time  almost  the  whole  population  of  the  city, 
numbering  nearly  two  hundred  thousand,  with  many 
more  from  a  distance,  had  assembled  at  the  river. 
Standing  in  water  up  to  the  waist  they  performed  their 
ablutions,  then  filling  their  brass  lotas  with  the  sacred 
water,  they  brought  it  upon  the  bank,  and  pouring  it 
out  as  an  offering  to  the  rising  sun,  they  fell  on  their 
faces  and  worshiped  in  silence.  Some  fashioned 
images  from  the  Ganges'  mud,  and  gazing  fixedly  upon 
them,  repeated  their  prayers,  then  threw  them  into  the 
river  as  of  no  further  use. 

Mekara  passed  here  and  there  through  the  throng, 
watching  every  movement,  and  endeavoring  to  draw 
some  conclusion  from  their  actions  as  to  the  nature  of 
their  religion.  Seeing  a  Brahmin  approaching  from 
one  side  he  left  the  crowd  and  went  forward  to  meet 
Jiim.     The  Brahmin,  who  had  just  performed  his  ablu- 


£4  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

'tions,  shaved,  and  clad  in  his  snowy  robe,  presented  the 
very  picture  of  contentment  which  shone  on  his  good- 
natured  face. 

"  Salaam !  noble  Brahmin,"  began  the  prince,  "  art 
thou  at  leisure  now?  " 

"  Peace  to  thy  turban,  Sahib.  I  am  always  at  leisure 
to  give  aid  to  those  who  need  it.  Is  there  anything  I 
can  do  for  thee?" 

"  There  is.  I  want  to  know  something  of  the  Hindu 
faith  and  the  nature  of  the  being  w7hom  you  worship. 
Something  whispers  to  me  of  a  Personal,  All-powerful 
Being  who  made  the  worlds.  Knowest  thou  aught  of 
such  an  One?" 

"Thine  instincts  are  true,"  replied  the  Brahmin, 
"  thy  question  simple  and  easily  answered.  The  sacred 
Vedas  tell  us  of  one  God,  even  Brahm,  whose  spirit  per- 
vades all  space,  and  by  whose  power  t-he  wrorlds  were 
created  and  all  that  in  them  is.  He  is  the  wind  that 
blows ;  the  light  of  the  sun ;  the  perfume  of  the  flower ; 
the  moisture  of  the  clouds ;  and  the  vital  breath  of  the 
body.  The  stars  are  his  eyes,  the  earthquakes  and 
thunders  his  laugh.  Without  him  nothing  can  exist, 
for  he  is  the  soul  of  all." 

Mekara  was  overjoyed  to  hear  this  plain  declaration 
from  the  Brahmin,  for  now  he  felt  that  he  was  in  pos- 
session of  the  knowledge  he  sought.  But  not  yet  satis- 
fied he  determined  to  glean  all  the  light  possible  while 
with  him. 

"  Tell  me  more,  noble  Brahmin,"  he  said,  "  of  that 
Great  Being,  and  how  I  may  come  to  a  correct  knowledge 
of  him." 

But  the  Brahmin  shook  his  head.  "  Ask  no  further," 
he  replied,  "  I  have  told  thee  too  much  already.     It  is 


THE   CHILD   OF   THE    GANGES.  55 

not  intended  that  any  but  Brahmins  should  know  the 
teachings  of  the  sacred  books.  All  thou  art  required  to 
do  is  to  obey  our  commands." 

"  But,"  insisted  the  prince,  "  how  can  I  obey  thy  com- 
mands intelligently  unless  I  know  of  some  reason  for 
so  doing?  Consider,  I  am  a  stranger  here,  and  know 
nothing  of  thy  religion.  I  have  come  all  the  way  from 
Ava  seeking  the  knowledge  which  thou  hast  in  power 
to  reveal  to  me.  Read  to  me,  I  pray  thee,  from  the 
sacred  book  that  I  may  learn  of  God." 

The  Brahmin  gazed  for  a  moment  in  mute  astonish- 
ment and  pity  at  the  prince  for  his  intrepid  boldness. 

"Thou  dost  not  know  what  thou  hast  desired,"  he 
said  at  length.  "Hast  thou  not  heard  that  a  Sudra's 
head  would  cleave  asunder  to  listen  to  the  reading  of 
the  Vedas?" 

"  But  I  am  not  a  Sudra,"  insisted  Mekara. 

uThen  thou  art  a  Pariah,  an  outcast,  which  is  worse. 
Still,  if  thou  wilt  follow  my  directions  I  will  re*ad  and 
thou  mayest  hear  without  danger.  Dip  thy  hand  three 
times  into  the  sacred  stream,  pouring  the  water  .over 
thy  head,  so  shalt  thou  be  purified." 

Watching  the  other  until  he  had  performed  this  holy 
office^  the  Brahmin  drew  from  the  folds  of  his  robe  the 
sacred  parchment  and  read  this  invocation : 

"God  is  One  !  Creator  of  all  that  is  !  God  is  like  a  perfect 
sphere,  without  beginning  and  without  end  !  God  rules  and 
governs  all  creation  by  a  general  providence,  resulting  from 
first  determined  and  fixed  principles.  Thou  shalt  not  make 
inquiry  into  the  essence  of  the  Eternal  One,  nor  by  what 
laws  he  governs.  An  inquiry  into  either  is  vain  and  criminal. 
It  is  enough,  that  day  by  day,  and  night  by  night,  thou  seest 
in  his  works,  his  wisdom,  his  power  and  his  mercy.  Benefit 
thereby. 


56  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

"By  one  Supreme  Ruler  is  this  universe  pervaded;  even 
every  world  in  the  whole  circle  of  nature.  Enjoy  pure  delight, 
O  man  !  by  abandoning  all  thoughts  of  this  perishable  world, 
and  covet  not  the  wealth  of  any  creature  existing.   . 

"To  those  regions  where  evil  spirits  dwell,  and  which  utter 
darkness  involves,  all  such  men  surely  go  after  death,  as  destroy 
the  purity  of  their  souls. 

"Let  my  soul  return  to  the  immortal  spirit  of  God!  and 
then  let  my  body,  which  end3  in  ashes,  return  to  dust ! 

"  O,  Spirit  who  pervadest  fire,  lead  us  in  a  straight  path  to 
the  riches  of  beatitude  !  remove  each  foul  taint  from  our  soul ; 
who  approach  thee  with  the  highest  praise  and  the  most  fervid 
adoration  \ 

li  God,  who  is  perfect  in  wisdom,  and  perfect  in  happiness, 
is  the  final  refuge  of  the  man  who  has  liberally  bestowed  his 
wealth,  who  has  been  firm  in  virtue,  and  who  knows  and 
adores  that  Great  One  !  Remember  me.  O,  OM,  Thou  Divine 
Spirit/' 

Mekara's  heart  filled  with  joy  as  he  listened  to  this 
sublime  description  of  his  own  ideal  God ;  but,  looking 
at  the  crowds  thronging  the  water,  and  seeing  the  strange 
inconsistency  of  their  worship,  he  e.sked : 

"Why,  O  Brahmin,  do  those  people,  knowing  that 
there  is  one  God,  even  a  Spirit,  worship  images  of  mud 
on  the  river-bank,  and  hideous  figures  in  yonder  golden 
temples?" 

"  They  do  not  worship  the  images." 

"  But  do  I  not  see  them  bow  before  them,  pray  to 
them,  and  pour  libations  of  sacred  water  upon  them  ? 
What  is  that  but  worship  ?  " 

"It  is  worship,"  said  the  Brahmin,  "but  offered  to 
God  in  the  image,  and  not  to  the  image  itself." 

"  I  do  not  understand,"  replied  Mekara.  "  How  is  God 
in  such  a  creation  of  man's  hands  ?" 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  57 

"  Did  I  not  just  read  from  the  Veda  that  God  is  every- 
where, and  if  everywhere,  and  in  everything,  is  he  not 
in  the  idol  ?  " 

"Why,  then,  do  they  have  images?  Surely  such  a 
God  as  is  there  described  would  delight  more  in  the 
devotion  of  the  soul  than  in  these  outward,  and  often 
disgusting,  practices. " 

"  Canst  thou  notyet  understand  ?  God  is  a  spirit.  Can 
he  be  seen  ?  How  then  shall  the  vulgar,  untaught,  un- 
thinking mob  worship  him  whom  they  see  not  ?  The 
idea  of  an  unseen,  intangible  God  is  too  abstract  for 
them ;  they  cannot  grasp  it.  There  is  nothing  actual 
for  the  mind  to  rest  upon.  -  Therefore,  we  give  them 
idols.  On  these  the  mind  is  concentrated,  and  the  de- 
votion ascends  to  God,  which  otherwise  would  wander 
over  the  wide  universe." 

The  prince  was  beginning  to  lose  faith  in  the  religion 
of  the  Brahmins.  "If  God  is  invisible,"  he  asked, 
"  how  has  any  one  ever  seen  him  that  they  may  repre- 
sent him  in  carvings  of  stone,  mud,  or  wood  ?  And 
what  idea  can  any  one  derive  of  God  by  gazing  upon 
your  oily-headed  Ganesha  with  his  elephant  trunk  ?  " 

"It  is  a  matter  of  little  importance,"  replied  the 
Brahmin,  "  whether  they  have  a  right  conception  of  him 
or  not.  The  uneducated  really  think  that  the  idol  is 
God  and  worship  it  as  such.  "Worship  is  all  that  we 
require  of  them,  and  it  is  as  sincerely  paid  to  one  object 
as  another.  In  one  sense  the  image  is  God,  since  God 
is  everything.  Consequently  their  devotion  is  not  lost. 
In  that  sense  I,  too,  am  God." 

"  Thou  God  ? "  cried  Mekara,  in  astonishment, 
"  Canst  thou  not  sin  ?  " 


58  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

"  True,  I  sin,"  he  replied,  "  but  that  is  on  account  of 
the  flesh.  God  is  like  fire.  A  flame  is  pure  Throw 
dirt  upon  it  and  it  smokes,  giving  off  a  bad  odor.  That 
is  not  from  the  fire,  but  from  the  dirt.  So  the  God  in 
me  is  pure,  but  surrounded  by  impure  matter.  He 
hates  sin,  but  it  arises  from  his  contact  with  the  flesh." 

Confused  by  this  strange  logic  of  idolatry,  Mekara 
knew  not  what  to  think. 

"How  may  we  become  free  from  sin  ?  "  he  inquired. 

uBy  continual  mortification  of  the  body,"  replied  his 
instructor;  aby  strangling  all  mortal  desires,  passions, 
and  affection  of  every  kind.  .  If  life  be  made  continual 
pain  from  which  death  would  be  a  happy  release,  then  sin 
would  be  purged  and  the  pure,  immaterial  soul  set  free. 
Some  attain  that  perfection  in  this  life,  others  pass 
through  many  states  of  existence  before  their  final  re- 
lease. Eternal  happiness  may  be  secured  by  perform- 
ing the  various  ceremonies  connected  with  public  wor- 
ship, bathing  in  thf  sacred  river,  or  even  by  silent 
meditation  and  fasting.  All  wrho  die  in  this  holy  place 
are  saved.  Yet  many  who,  in  addition  to  their  own 
salvation,  wish  to  obtain  release  for  the  souls  of  de- 
parted friends,  practice  additional  austerities,  and  ac- 
cumulate a  surplus  of  righteousness  -to  be  carried  with 
them.  Such  are  the  thousands  of  ascetics  who  daily 
go  about  the  streets  in  rags  or  almost  naked,  delighting 
in  bodily  torture  ;  and  such  are  the  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands of  devotees  who  shall  assemble  here  this  day. 
Remain  here  and  be  content,  for  no  soul  from  here  can 
be  lost.  Observe  the  different  rites  and  ceremonies, 
and  shape  thine  own  life  accordingly.  Nevertheless,  if 
thou  wouldst  see  farther  into  our  system  thou  mayest 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  59 

go  to  the  Grove  of  Sorrow,  near  a  tall  mountain  shrine 
which  stands  near  the  left  bank  of  the  Ganges,  two 
days'  journey  from  the  city.  It  is  a  place  of  great  re- 
puted sanctity,  and  here  are  a  thousand  ascetics,  under 
a  Brahmin,  practicing  as  many  different  penances. 
But  methinks  thou  wilt  see  enough  here  to  satisfy  thy 
soul.  May  Brahm  give  thee  light,  and  Vishnu  preserve 
thee.     We  must  part !  " 

With  these  words  he  walked  on,  leaving  Mekara  to 
ponder  the  things  he  had  heard.  The  latter  stood 
watching  the  retreating  figure  of  the  Brahmin,  and  the 
confused  crowd  moving  to  and  fro,  his  mind  filled  with 
indecision  concerning  the  strange  doctrine  he  had 
heard.  What  spirituality  is  there  in  devotion  paid  to 
senseless  stone  ?  And  how  can  bodily  infliction  purge 
the  immaterial  soul  of  its  pollution  ?  These  thoughts 
racked  his  brain  and  afforded  him  food  for  reflection 
for  many  days  to  come.  He  was  aroused  from  his 
reverie  by  a  sudden  commotion  in  a  group  of  bathers 
on  one  of  the  principal  ghauts.  The  crowd  surged 
backward,  leaving  an  open  space  on  the  steps,  down 
which  hastily  came  two  men  bearing  a  litter,  and  fol- 
lowed by  a  wailing  procession  of  men,  women,  and 
children. 

The  bearers  placed  the  litter  by  the  water's  edge  and 
removed  the  snow  white  linen  cloth  that  covered  it. 
Mekara  came  near  to  look  upon  the  supposed  corpse ; 
but,  to  his  surprise,  saw  the  emaciated  body  of  a  rich 
merchant,  still  alive,  and  struggling  for  breath.  He 
stretched  his  thin,  bony  hands  imploringly  towards  the 
river. 


60  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

"  I  have  sinned !  "  he  gasped,  "  and  the  streams  of  life 
run  low.  Place  me  in  the  arms  of  the  Sacred  Mother 
quickly.     Only  on  her  bosom  can  my  soul  find  peace  !  " 

Gently  lifting  him  from  the  litter,  they  placed  him  in 
the  water  up  to  his  breast,  while  the  weeping  relatives 
crowded  on  the  banks  to  catch  his  expiring  words.  His 
lean  arms  clutched  at  the  water  before  him  ;  his  great 
dark  eyes  were  already  covered  with  the  film  of  death, 
and  his  wan  lips  scarcely  were  able  to  articulate.  The 
bearers  held  him  by  the  shoulders  and  supported  his 
feeble  head.  A  spasm  passed  over  his  haggard  features. 
His  lips  moved.  "  Holy  Mother !  "  he  faintly  cried,  "thou 
who  art  my  life — receive — my — soul !  "  His  head  fell 
forward  on  his  breast  ;  his  arms  dropped  to  his  sides, 
and  they  were  about  to  lift  him  out.  Suddenly,  as  if 
the  departing  spirit  had  forgotten  something  of  infinite 
importance,  he  raised  his  head  convulsively  and 
screamed :  "  Ganga  J  Ganga !  "  with  all  the  energy 
of  his  last  escaping  breath,  and  throwing  himself  back- 
ward lay  in  the  water,  a  corpse,  his  spirit  caught  away 
in  the  arms  of  the  Sacred  Mother. 

The  body  was  placed  again  on  the  litter  and  the  cloth 
drawn  over  it.  A  barge  now  approached  and  deposited 
upon  the  bank  a  pile  of  wood  and  straw.  The  wood 
was  formed  into  a  pen  between  two  stakes  and  filled 
with  the  straw.  On  top  were  placed  several  layers  of 
dry  wood,  and  the  body,  closely  wrapped  in  scarlet,  was 
laid  upon  it  and  covered  with  a  cloth  of  gold.  When  all 
was  ready  a  priestly  Brahmin  cried,  so  as  to  be  heard 
above  the  wailing  mourners  :  "What  sayeth  the  widow? 
Does  she  choose  to  eat  fire,  or  no?  " 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  61 

A  Hindu  widow  is  accursed  if  she  survives  her  hus- 
band ;  cast  out  from  society  j  forced  to  pass  her  days 
in  solitary  confinement  and  the  utmost  self-denial  ; 
never  sleeping  on  a  bed  ;  never  wearing  any  jewelry. 
Without  her  husband  her  soul  is  nothing,  but  linked 
with  his  in  the  embrace  of  death,  both  may  go  together 
to  Paradise.     She  makes  her  own  choice. 

At  the  voice  of  the  Brahmin  the  relatives  stopped 
for  a  moment  their  wailing  to  hear  the  decision.  The 
poor  woman  lifted  her  tearful  eyes  to  the  golden  domes 
of  the  temples  where  she  had  so  often  worshiped  ; 
looked  wistfully  upon  the  broad,  placid  stream  of  the 
rivav  and  the  children  clustering  around  her,  then  bent 
a  yearning  look  upon  the  body  beneath  the  cloth.  Only 
for  a  moment  did  she  hesitate  ;  then,  "  It  is  decided," 
she  said.     "  I  will  go  with  him  !  " 

Once  more  the  wailing  began.  Descending  into  the 
river,  she  bathed  her  body  for  the  last  time  in  its  be- 
loved stream,  then  tying  about  her  waist  a  cloth,  in  the 
corner  of  which  was  fastened  a  quantity  of  parched 
rice,  she  marched,  at  the  head  of  her  children,  seven 
times  around  the  pile  in  sunwise  procession,  throwing 
the  rice  upon  her  relatives  in  passing;  then  ascending 
the  pile,  she  lifted  the  cloth,  and,  placing  the  withered 
arm  of  the  corpse  about  her  neck,  embraced  it  lovingly. 
The^two  bodies  were  now  tightly  bound  together  with 
cords  and  heavy  pieces  of  wood  laid  upon  them,  across 
which  was  placed  a  long  bamboo  pole,  held  down  at  each 
end  by  a  stout  Brahmin  to  prevent  the  victim  from 
rising.  The  priest  read  aloud  from  the  Shaster,  direct- 
ing how  the  ceremony  was  to  be  performed.     The  oldest 


62  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

son  applied  the  sacred  torch;  the  smoke  ascended  to 
the  sky.  The  wailing  grew  louder,  and  the  whole  im- 
mense throng  yelled  and  beat  upon  their  gongs  to  drown 
the  shrieks  of  the  poor,  loving  creature,  struggling  in 
the  burning  mass.  Two  men  stood  behind  those  who 
held  down  the  pole  and  poured  water  upon  their  heads 
to  protect  them  from  the  heat.  The  struggles  soon 
ceased  ;  the  dry  pile  crumbled  quickly  to  ashes  ;  the 
blue  smoke  rolled  away  ;  the  ashes  were  thrown  into 
the  river,  and  the  great  crowd  thought  no  more  of  the 
every  day  occurrence,  but  a  family  had  been  destroyed 
in  that  one  short  hour,  and  two  more  had  been  added  to 
the  innumerable  hosts  of  the  Children  of  the  Ganges. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

"  Tell  me,  my  secret  soul, 
O  tell  me,  Hope  and  Faith, 
Is  there  no  resting  place 
From  sorrow,  sin,  and  death  ? 
Is  there  no  happy  spot, 
Where  mortals  may  be  blest 
Where  grief  may  find  a  balm 
And  weariness  a  rest  ?  " 


■Charles  Mackay. 


The  prince,  who  was  much  shocked  at  this  barbarous 
deed,  congratulated  himself  that  Mahdri  was  not  pres- 
ent to  witness  it.  Brought  up  under  the  Buddhist  faith, 
which  forbids  the  taking  of  animal  life,  neither  of  them 
had  ever  witnessed  the  death,  by  violence,  of  even  an 
insect.  Buddha  taught  that  all  souls  failing  to  attain 
Nirvana  in  this  life  were  doomed  to  another  round  of 
transmigration  from  the  lower  order  of  animals  up  to 
man  again.  Consequently  even  a  mischievous  flea 
might  be  inhabited  by  the  soul  of  some  erratic  grand- 
father who  had  gone  astray  from  the  teachings  of  the 
law  ;  for  this  reason  they  were  not  to  be  disturbed.  What 
must  have  been  the  shock  to  the  tender-hearted  princess, 
then,  had  she  beheld  the  cremation  of  a  living  human, 
especially  of  her  own  sex,  and  a  devoted  wTife  and 
mother ! 

The  heat  of  the  sun  wras  now  becoming  too  oppres- 
sive to  be  borne,  as  it  was  reflected  from  the  wrater  and 
the  polished  steps  of  the  ghauts.  Most  of  the  bathers 
were  dispersing  to  their  homes,  and  Mekara,  fatigued 

(63) 


64  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

with  his  long  journey  and  nights  of  wakefulness,  deter- 
mined to  go  to  his  bungalow  and  try  to  rest  while  he 
thought  over  the  events  of  the  morning,  or  sought  repose 
in  sleep. 

Towards  evening  he  wandered  with  his  wife  and  child 
through  the  streets,  watching  the  endless  processions 
come  and  go  ;  ^and  listening  to  the  learned  and  bigoted 
Brahmins  as  they  discoursed  on  the  corners,  explaining 
to  gaping  crowds  the  way  to  heaven.  Here  many,  who 
had  seemed  the  most  devout  worshipers  at  the  river, 
were  earnestly  trying  to  excel  in  lying,  cheating,  and 
stealing,  as  if  their  religion  demanded  it.  Practices 
which  would  make  a  moral  Buddhist  shudder  to  behold. 
But  what  did  it  matter?  Ganga  was  near  and  her 
waters  u  cleanse  from  all  8^.'' 

Fakirs  in  every  stage  of  nudity,  some  of  them  coated 
from  head  to  foot  with  dried  mud,  or  hideously  striped 
with  berry  juice,  ran  from  street  to  street,  continually 
yelling  for  Shiva.  Both  Mekara  and  Mahdri  had  tried 
in  vain  to  conjecture  why  so  many  of  the  sacred  bulls 
crowded  the  narrow  streets  and  to  what  use  they  could 
possibly  be  put,  but  that  matter  soon  explained  itself. 
An  old  pilgrim  came  tottering  down  the  street,  support- 
ing his  feeble  frame  with  a  cane.  He  had  the  appear- 
ance of  having  come  a  great  distance,  his  breath  came 
in  short,  quick  gasps,  and  his  eyes  looked  eagerly  for- 
ward as  if  he  feared  his  strength  would  fail  him  before 
reaching  his  destination.  Those  nearest  to  him  could 
hear  his  dried  tongue  lisping,  through  his  toothless 
gums,  the  magic  name,  "Ganga!  Ganga!"  He  was 
poor  and  had  no  friends  to  carry  him.     He  paused  on  a 


A  Fakir 


66  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

corner  in  sight  of  the  holy  stream  ;  his  form  reeled, 
and  a  look  of  despair  came  into  his  yearning  eyes  as  he 
clutched  the  Avail  for  support.  Suddenly  a  sacred  bull 
appeared  in  front  of  him  ;  a  new  light  entered  his  eyes  ; 
and  staggering  forward  he  grasped  the  animal  by  the 
long  bushy  tail.  A  generous  Brahmin  now  ran  up  with 
a  brass  lota  filled  with  Ganges  water  which  he  poured 
over  the  head  of  the  old  man,  whose  sins  passing  through 
his  hands  along  the  sacred  medium,  were  forever  lost, 
and  he  fell  to  the  ground,  dying  in  a  full  assurance  of 
faith  that  his  soul  would  awake  in  Paradise  ;  for,  had 
he  not  died  in  the  Holy  City,  in  sight  of  the  divine 
Mother,  clinging  for  refuge  to  Shiva's  favorite  steed. 

Coolies  hastily  snatched  up  the  yet  quivering  body, 
and  bearing  it  merrily  down  the  steps,  dumped  it  into 
the  river,  where  it  floated  peacefully  away  in  company 
with  many  others  who  had  enjoyed  alike  happy  fate. 

The  travelers  next  visited  the  temples,  where  they 
saw,  for  the  first  time,  sacrificial  blood  flow  from 
burning  altars.  Grave-faced  Brahmins,  with  long  white 
beards,  chanted  their  mantras  in  response  to  the  bleat- 
ing of  the  kids,  and  lovely  nautch  girls,  clad  in  light, 
flowing  drapery,  with  golden  bells  tinkling  about  their 
graceful  ankles,  danced  in  circles  over  the  stone-paved 
floor. 

Other  temples  were  inhabited  solely  by  monkeys,  who 
gazed  impudently  at  the  curious  intruders. 

"Why  worship  monkeys?  "  The  question  occurred  to 
Mekara ;  but  there  was  no  one  in  the  temple  to  answer, 
exeept  the  ridiculous  little  gods  themselves. 

Hanumat,  the  baboon  god,  is  represented  in  the  great 
Epic,  Ramayana,  as  the  son  of  the  God  of  the  "Wind, 


,1  in 

»   |! 

/        ': 

i  f; 

H-      ,: 

iM 

hlUlLy'l 


I,  II 


68  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

and  as  such  was  often  employed  by  Rama  when  in  need 
of  a  swift  messenger.  For  his  services  to  this  mighty 
king  in  his  great  campaign  against  Ceylon,  he  was 
rewarded  with  perpetual  life  and  never-fading  youth. 
He  is  renowned  for  no  good  deeds  or  noble  traits  of 
character,  yet  is  devoutly  worshiped  by  millions. 

The  prince  lost  no  opportunity  of  inquiring  into  the 
meaning  of  every  ceremony  he  saw  performed.  But 
the  more  he  saw  and  heard  of  the  religion  of  the  peo- 
ple, the  greater  was  his  surprise  to  see  the  inconsistency 
between  the  teachings  of  the  holy  books  and  the  prac- 
tices of  those  who  professed  to  follow  them.  The  Vedas 
proclaimed  One  God,  Immutable,  Omniscient,  and 
Omnipresent.  Why  then  should  there  be  such  a  lack 
of  an  object  of  worship  as  to  authorize  the  deification 
of  monkeys,  bulls,  and  rivers? 

The  temples,  with  their  gilded  pinnacles  and  smoking 
altars,  were  devoted  to  worship ;  the  unnumbered  hosts 
of  pilgrims  came  with  hearts  overflowing  with  worship ; 
and  those  who  dipped  themselves  in  the  Ganges  at  sun- 
rise did  it  as  a  form  of  worship.  But  to  whom?  Out 
of  the  millions  who  annually  visited  her  banks  was 
there  one  who  worshiped  God?  No;  not  one.  The 
question  now  arose  in  the  mind  of  the  prince,  "Why  is 
all  this?"  Then  the  words  of  the  Brahmin,  spoken 
that  morning,  recurred  to  him.  "  It  is  not  given  to  any 
but  Brahmins  to  understand  the  Vedas."  "  How  differ- 
ent," thought  he,  "  from  the  religion  of  Ko  Tha-Byu, 
which  had  been  revealed  to  the  common  people,  the 
simplest  of  the  land !  " 

Reader,  dost  thou  know  what  has  been  the  greatest 
curse  the  world  has  ever  seen?  The  answer  is  obvious  : 
Priestcraft. 


An  Indian  Temple 


70  THE   CHILD    OF   THE   GANGES. 

"Who  was  responsible  for  the  illiteracy  of  the  masses 
during  the  Dark  Ages?  Who  butchered  the  servants  of 
God,  and  drove  them  like  sheep  to  the  slaughter?  Who, 
with  Satanic  cunning,  is  trying  to  sap  the  foundations 
of  our  own  fair  republic?  Who  holds  Mexico  in  chains? 
Who  opposes  the  man  of  God  in  Cuba?  Who  is  re- 
sponsible for  the  gross  ignorance,  superstition,  and  vice 
in  every  land,  civilized  or  savage?  The  answer  to  all 
is,  The  Priest!  The  Priest!  God  send  the  happy 
day,  when  only  the  One  Great  High  Priest,  who  is 
"touched  with  the  feelings  of  our  infirmity,"  shall 
stand  between  a  loving  Father  and  his  trusting  people ! 

After  wandering  till  nearly  night  among  the  mazy 
labyrinths  of  streets,  Mahdri,  who  had  no  interest  in  the 
city  beyond  a  natural  feminine  curiosity  to  see  the 
sights,  became  exhausted  from  the  long  tramp ;  which 
being  observed  by  her  husband,  he  reproved  himself 
for  having  led  her  so  far,  and  proposed  to  return  at  once 
to  the  bungalow.  There  they  sat  till  late  in  the  night 
on  the  upper  balcony ;  she,  amusing  herself  with  the 
child,  and  he,  looking  thoughtfully  out  over  the  city.  A 
thin  mist  had  risen  from  the  river  through  which  the 
full  moon  glimmered,  "  shorn  of  its  beams." 

Hundreds  of  spice-lamps  set  afloat  on  the  silvery 
tide  of  the  river  by  amorous  maidens,  betokening  pro- 
pitious returns  from  anxious  lovers,  twinkled  like  stars, 
or  phantom  Will-o'-The-Wisps,  as  they  moved  along. 
Red  lanterns  flared  from  the  deep  dark  streets  below ; 
and  flames  of  cocoanut-oil  lit  up  the  temples  on  the 
cliff.  The  great  piles  of  stone  buildings  and  golden 
domes,  touched  by  the  dim  light  of  the  moon,  with  a 
back-ground  of  mist,  gave   the   appearance  more  of  a 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  7l 

fading  sunset  picture  painted  among  the  clouds,  than 
of  the  sad  reality  it  was. 

A  spirit  of  worship  thrilled  Mekara's  bosom  as  he 
looked  on  the  lovely  scene,  and  he  longed  to  throw  him- 
self on  his  face  and  pour  out  his  soul  in  devotion. 

u  But  to  whom  ?  "  he  thought.  "  Shall  I  worship  yon 
lovely  river  ?  I  know,  from  natural  causes,  it  is  a  bless- 
ing to  the  whole  land ;  but  no  more  so  than  my  own 
Irrawaddy.  Shall  I  pray  to  the  sacred  bulls  or  mon- 
keys ?  They  have  no  instincts  common  to  the  human 
soul,  nor  could  they  understand  the  words  of  my  mouth. 
Shall  I  pour  oil  on  the  elephant-head  of  Ganesha,  or 
drape  his  thick  neck  with  garlands  of  flowers  ?  The 
senseless  stone  would  never  know  it.  Shall  I  give 
offerings  to  a  God  who  is  Spirit  ?  I  fain  would  worship 
him ;  but  alas  !  I  know  not  how  to  approach  unto  him, 
nor  with  what  words  to  address  him.  Oh,  the  light  is 
long  in  coming !  I  thought  I  had  received  it  when  the 
Brahmin  read  to  me  of  a  God,  but  his  actions  belie  his 
words.     I  will  patiently  labor  and  wait." 

Thus,  day  after  day,  and  night  after  night,  did  he 
pass  in  the  Holy  City;  but  each  day  only  served  to 
reveal  unto  him,  more  and  more,  the  vanity  and  folly 
of  its  gross  idolatry.  Within  a  week  of  daily  applica- 
tion he  was  convinced  that  the  "  Mother  of  the  Faith- 
ful "  could  never  afford  him  the  rest  for  which  he 
sought,  and  he  determined,  as  a  further  test  of  their 
religion  and  practices,  to  visit  the  grove  suggested  to 
him  by  the  Brahmin  on  the  morning  of  his  arrival. 

Making  known  his  intention  toMahdri,  she  expressed 
delight  at  the  prospect  of  leaving  the  crowded  city,  and 
willingness  to  accompany  him  anywhere.     So  in  the 


72  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

cool  of  the  afternoon,  just  before  sunset,  they  set  out  in 
a  boat  on  their  journey  up  the  river. 

Their  destination  lay  beyond  Allahabad,  "  The  City 
of  God,"  situated  at  the  juncture  of  the  two  sacred 
rivers.  Its  high-sounding  title  promised  to  Mekara  the 
fulfillment  of  his  hopes,  and  he  stopped  to  make  further 
inquiry;  but  a  few  hours  sufficed  to  reveal  the  fact 
that  the  inhabitants  were  no  better  informed  than  those 
of  Benares,  but  were  engaged  in  the  same  abominable 
practices,  even  to  excess. 

Weary  with  journey ings,  and  searchings  to  and  fro, 
and  almost  in  despair,  he  turned  his  back  upon  India's 
two  most  holy  cities,  and  appealed  for  comfort  to  the 
heart  of  Nature,  landing  that  night  at  the  banyan  tem- 
ple where  first  wre  found  them. 

Will  he  find  rest  ? 

Ah !  troubled  prince,  thou  hast  never  known  sorrow 
and  heart-pangs  such  as  shall  soon  be  thine,  when, 
through  Brahmin  duplicity,  thy  beloved  wife  and 
child but  we  must  not  anticipate. 


BOOK  SECOND. 


CHAPTER  I. 

"  Moon  after  moon  our  lord  sat  in  the  wood, 
So  meditating  that  he  forgot 
Oftentimes  the  hour  of  food,  r-ising  from  thoughts 
Prolonged  beyond  the  sunrise  and  the  moon, 
To  see  his  bowl  unfilled  and  eat  perforce 
Of  wild  fruit  fallen  from  the  bough  o'er  head, 
Shaken  to  earth  by  chattering  ape  or  plucked 
By  purple  paroquet.    Therefore,  his  grace 
Faded  ;  his  body,  worn  by  stress  of  soul, 
Lost,  day  by  day,  the  marks  thirty  and  two 
Which  testify  the  Buddha.    Scarce  that  leaf 
Fluttering  so  dry  and  withered  to  his  feet, 
From  off  the  sal-branch,  bore  less  likeness 
Of  spring's  soft  greenness  than  he  of  him 
Who  was  the  princely  flower  of  all  his  land." 

— Arnold. 

Mekara  had  told  his  story  hurriedly  and  passed  over 
the  minor  parts  of  his  history ;  but  by  the  time  he  was 
through  the  sun  was  high  in  the  heavens ;  and  Mahdri, 
returning  from  the  village,  had  prepared  a  meal  of  rice 
and  curry,  and  sitting  down  with  the  child,  she  waited 
quietly  until  her  husband  should  be  ready.  Asita  was 
invited  to  partake  of  the  refreshments,  but  declined, 
as  a  Brahmin  could  not  receive  food  from  the  hands 
of  a  lower  caste.  So  while  they  were  eating  he  helped 
himself  from  the  lota  at  his  side. 

Only  a  few  moments  sufficed  the  prince  to  allay  his 
appetite,  for  when  the  soul  hungers  the  body  craves  but 

(73) 


74  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

little.  Asita  waited  until  he  had  finished  and  washed 
his  hands  from  a  chattie  of  water,  then  began : 

"Thy  story,  O  prince,  is  one  of  thousands  who  are 
troubled  with  thoughts  of  the  soul,  its  relation  to  the 
Soul  of  the  universe,,  and  its  eternal  destiny.  My 
brother  in  the  Holy  City  told  thee  aright.  Brahm  is 
all,  and  in  all.  Without  him  there  is  nothing ;  and  the 
highest  state  of  blessedness  is  to  be  absorbed  finally 
into  the  bosom  of  the  great  Original  from  whom  all  have 
emanated.  The  body  is  nothing  but  a  cage  containing 
the  divine  spark  which  alone  gives  character  to  its  pos- 
sessor. The  soul  is  holy,  and  contact  with  the  flesh 
defiles  it.  Consequently,  if  the  desires  of  the  body  can 
be  quenched,  all  love  and  affection  uprooted,  and  carnal 
sensibilities  destroyed,  the  soul  will  be  freed  as  water 
from  a  compressed  sponge. 

"  Our  religion  admits  of  no  proselytes.  To  be  a  Brah- 
min is  to  be  born  such.  But,  even  in  this,  thy  destiny 
lies  in  choice,  and  not  fate,  nor  even  the  will  of  the 
gods.  The  fetters  of  caste  bind  us  fast  while  in  this 
body,  but  when  freed  by  death  the  soul  next  enters 
whatever  degree  it  was  prepared  for  in  this  life.  Even 
a  Pariah  as  thyself  can  aspire  to  be  a  Brahmin  in  the 
next  life,  from  which  there  is  only  one  step  to  final 
absorption,  the  blessed  end  to  all  human  trouble.  The 
more  severe  self-torture  we  practice  the  greater  happi- 
ness we  shall  enjoy. 

"  As  I  said,  thy  future  destiny  is  altogether  a  matter 
of  choice.  Within  this  forest  is  a  great  multitude  of 
ascetics,  each  practicing  a  different  mode  of  infliction 
according  to  the  dictates  of  his  own  mind.  I  will  con- 
duct thee,  therefore,  to  the  Grove  of  Sorrow,  where  thou 
ghalt  converse  with  each  and  choose  for  thyself." 


THE  child  of  the  ganges.  75 

Mekara  sat  in  silence,  meditating  on  what  course  to 
pursue.  Having  met  with  disappointment  in  both 
Benares  and  Allahabad,  he  was  now  confronted  with 
the  same  difficulties  met  with  there.  But  he  was  deter- 
mined to  let  no  opportunity  pass  unimproved,  so  he 
decided  to  go  and  converse  with  the  ascetics  at  least, 
and  hear  from  their  own  lips  the  progress  they  were 
making  in  soul-purifying. 

Asita  paid  no  attention  to  this  hesitation,  but  lifting 
his  crooked  trunk  from  the  couch  of  roots  and  grass, 
he  stood,  with  staff  and  lota  in  hand,  ready  to  go- 
Mahdri  took  up  the  child  and  essayed  to  follow ;  but 
Asita  objected,  saying  it  was  no  place  for  a  woman ;  and 
bade  her  to  remain  with  the  child  and  rest,  promising 
to  return  before  sunset.  She  insisted,  and  it  was  only 
when  reassured  by  her  husband  that  she  consented  to 
remain ;  for  with  a  woman's  quick  intuition,  she  had 
already  begun  to  distrust  the  wily  Brahmin. 

The  forest  which  they  now  entered  was  one  of  the 
most  lovely  in  all  India.  Cypress,  bamboo,  plantain, 
mango,  palm  and  tamarind  trees  were  mingled  in  the 
most  luxurious  confusion.  Birds  of  gorgeous  hue  flitted 
from  branch  to  branch,  and  sang  merrily  from  their 
shady  recesses ;  monkeys  swinging  with  their  long  arms, 
or  hanging  by  their  tails  from  over-hanging  limbs,  per- 
formed the  most  ridiculous  antics;  herds  of  gazelles 
browsed  by  the  path,  and  fearlessly  lifted  their  large 
eyes  to  the  face  of  their  new  visitor,  as  if  accustomed 
to  the  companionship  of  mankind. 

After  winding  for  some  time  through  the  intricate 
paths  of  the  forest,  they  at  length  reached  a  vast  glade 
where  the  over-hanging  foliage  was  so  dense  that  the 


76  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

rays  of  the  sun  never  entered.  The  ground  was  as 
smooth  as  a  floor,  having  been  trodden,  for  long  years 
past,  by  innumerable  feet ;  wierd,  half-stifled  cries  ever 
and  anon  resounded  through  the  dim  vaults,  like  wails 
from  the  region  of  Despair,  strangely  unnatural  in  such  a 
spot.  Hundreds  of  human  forms  were  moving,  stand- 
ing, or  reclining,  among  the  trees  in  every  conceivable 
position.  Some  walked  continually  to  and  fro  with 
strings  of  beads  about  their  necks  which  they  counted, 
repeating,  over  and  over,  a  thousand  times  a  day,  the 
sacred  Shasters.  Some,  who  were  yet  only  novices  in 
practice,  employed  their  time  in  going  about  with 
bowls  of  rice  from  which  they  took  little  balls  with 
their  fingers  and  thrust  into  the  open,  dried-up 
mouths  of  those  who  had  already  become  helpless 
through  long  abstinence.  One  poor  creature  was  stand- 
ing like  a  statue,  his  feet  close  together,  and  his  arms 
lifted  straight  above  his  head.  For  five  years  he  had 
been  standing  thus,  not  moving  a  muscle  of  his  limbs. 
His  skin  hung  wrinkled  and  hard,  like  weather-beaten 
leather  about  his  form.  His  muscles  had  dried  into 
stiff,  inflexible  cords.  His  arms  seemed  like  dead,  sap- 
less branches  of  a  tree,  ready  to  drop  off  at  the  least 
jar.  The  blood  had  almost  ceased  to  circulate  through 
his  mummy-dried  flesh;  and  through  his  clinched 
palms  the  nails  had  pierced,  growing  out  through  the 
festered  skin  on  the  back,  writhing  and  twisting  like 
serpents'  head.  His  eye-balls,  looking  straight  in 
front  of  him,  were  immovable  in  their  shriveled  sockets. 
His  long,  matted  hair  had  grown  down  around  his 
head  and  neck  to  his  shoulders,  and  it  was  only  when 
the  breeze  lifted  the  mass  hanging  over  his  brows  that 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  77 

he  could  see  at  all.  If  the  development  of  the  soul  is 
attained  by  the  mortification  of  the  body,  surely  his 
spiritual  nature  must  have  reached  a  height  almost  to 
perfection. 

Here  lay  a  helpless  being  on  the  ground  weltering  in 
a  pool  of  blood  drawn  from  his  own  body  and  limbs 
with  a  flint.  Here,  suspended  from  a  limb  in  a  basket, 
was  a  child  as  beautiful  and  sweet  as  Manohara.  For 
two  days  it  had  hung  there  without  food,  wailing 
piteously,  while  the  great  cannibal  ants  devoured  its 
tender  flesh.  The  little  one  was  fretful  from  teething, 
and  Asita,  having  persuaded  its  mother  that  it  was  pos- 
sessed of  a  demon,  induced  her  to  let  him  expose  it  to 
the  ants.  If  it  lived  unharmed  for  three  days  he  prom- 
ised to  return  it  as  cured ;  but  if  devoured  by  the  ants, 
its  mother  was  congratulated  that  she  was  rid  of  a 
demon. 

Off  to  one  side  two  slow  fires  were  burning ;  between 
which  sat  a  naked  fakir  "  mortifying  his  body."  His 
flesh  was  swollen  and  flushed,  and  through  his  cracked 
skin  the  watery  blood  was  slowly  oozing  and  dripping 
to  the  ground ;  and  yet  he  seemed  happy  in  anticipation 
of  the  reward  offered  in  the  pardon  of  his  sins. 

Mekara  looked  with  disgust  and  horror  on  all  this 
self-imposed  torture.  Turning  to  the  Brahmin  he 
asked : 

"  Is  there  no  other  hope  of  gaining  eternal  hap- 
piness ?  " 

"  Thou  hast  already  been  told  that  the  ways  are 
many,"  replied  Asita.  "  These  all  practice  their  sev- 
eral austerities  from  choice  and  not  from  coercion. 
The  soul  may  be  freed  from  sin  by  milder  means,  as 


78  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

bathing  in  the  Ganges  and  solemn  meditation,  but  the 
degree  of  happiness  depends  upon  the  severity  of  the 
pain  endured. 

"  It  is  now  almost  noon,  and  I  must  return  to  the 
mountain  and  bring  away  the  food  left  there  by  the 
pilgrims.  These  must  be  fed  a  little  that  they  may 
live  until  the  body  is  conquered;  then  we  will  carry 
them  to  the  Ganges  to  die  in  its  waters.  Stay  thou 
among  these  till  I  return.  Question  them?  and  learn 
from  each  the  progress  he  is  making  toward  the  hea- 
venly goal." 

Mekara  needed  no  second  invitation ;  he  was  too  anx- 
ious to  learn  for  himself  the  feelings  of  those  who 
seemed  so  intent  on  their  own  destruction.  As  far  as 
the  eye  could  see,  forms  were  visible  in  gloom.  Some 
were  rolling  like  swine  in  the  dust  crying,  day  and 
night,  "Ganga!  Ganga!"  Some  were  suspended  from 
the  branches,  head  downward,  their  long  hair  growing 
like  moss  to  the  ground ;  and  some  hung  from  swings 
in  different  positions.  Mekara  wandered  at  pleasure 
among  them,  talking  freely  to  those  who  were  still  able 
to  articulate.  To  his  surprise,  he  found  each  one  per- 
fectly satisfied  with  his  condition,  and  fully  confident 
that  his  way  was  right. 

At  length,  weary  in  body  from  so  much  walking,  and 
sick  at  heart  from  the  sight  of  so  much  wretchedness,  he 
sat  down  by  the  trunk  of  a  bo-tree  to  await  the  com- 
ing of  Asita  who  had  promised  to  return  in  a  short 
while. 

The  zephyrs  fanned  the  tall  cypress  tops  above,  the 
birds  sang,  and  the  soft  chime  of  pagoda  bells,  scarcely 
perceptible,  fell  on  his  ear.     With  ears  open  to  the  joy 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  79 

of  Nature's  bright  world  above  him,  and  eyes  behold- 
ing human  wretchedness  around  him,  he  mused. 

"  Is  it  indeed  the  lot  of  man  to  always  suffer  thus 
amid  the  loveliness  of  his  surroundings  ?  Why  is  the 
world  so  filled  with  beauty  if  we  are  not  to  look  upon 
it  ?  Why  do  the  birds  sing  so  cheerfully,  and  the  strains 
of  music  sound  so  sweetly,  if  we  are  not  to  listen  to 
them?  Why  are  wives  and  children  given  to  us  if  we 
are  not  to  love  them?  Could  I  ever  enjoy  pleasure  that 
was  denied  to  my  loved  ones?  Strange,  strange,  teach- 
ing this! 

"Asita  delayeth  his  coming." 


CHAPTER  II. 

"It  was  almost  too  much  to  stand 
And  clasp  in  hers  the  little  hand 
She  ne'er  might  clasp  again  ; 
It  was  too  much  to  see  the  face 
That  she  had  pillowed  on  her  heart 
Turned  up  to  plead  for  her  embrace, 
And  tell  her  they  must  part." 

—Speaoer  Wallace  Cone. 

After  the  departure  of  Mekara  and  the  Brahmin, 
Mahdri  washed  the  rice-bowl  and  placed  it  with  the 
little  earthen  curry-pot  in  a  recess  of  the  tree.  She 
then  set  about  amusing  Manohara  until  her  father 
should  return.  The  two  young  gazelles  that  had  slept 
under  the  tree  the  night  before,  came  out  from  the 
shade  of  the  forest,  and  walking  familiarly  about, 
eagerly  picked  up  the  bits  of  food  that  had  been  drop- 
ped. Manohara  was  delighted  at  the  sight  of  the  lovely 
visitors,  and  scrambling  from  her  mother's  arms,  tod- 
dled to  them ;  and  prattling  all  the  endearing  baby 
talk  she  had  ever  learned,  she  stroked  their  glossy  necks 
and  peeped  into  their  beautiful  eyes.  They  entered 
fully  into  the  sport,  and  made  her  laugh  heartily  as 
they  rolled  her  on  the  ground  with  their  velvet  noses, 
or  capered  shyly  around  as  if  afraid. 

Mahdri  looked  on  with  all  a  mother's  love  ;  but  when 
the  gazelles  grew  tired  of  sport  and  went  back  into  the 
forest,  she  saw  that  the  child  was  sleepy,  and  placing 
her  in  the  swinging-basket,  she  rocked  it  back  and  forth 
singing  a  lullaby. 

(80) 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  81 

"  Sleep,  darling,  sleep  : 
A  mother's  care 
And  a  father's  prayer 
Shall  safely  keep 
The  baby  so  fair. 
Sleep,  darling,  sleep  ! 

Thy  father  shall  bring 
Thee  peace  and  love  ; 
The  devas  sing 
Thy  joy  to  prove  ; 
And  silver  bells  ring 
In  the  pagoda  above. 
Sleep,  darling,  sleep  !" 

At  length  the  weary  brcwn-eyes  closed,  and  the  little 
one  slumbered.  Spreading  a  vail  over  the  basket, 
Mahdri  was  preparing  to  go  in  search  of  berries  for  din- 
ner, when  she  was  alarmed  to  see  Asita  returning  alone. 

"  "Where  is  the  prince,  my  husband  ?"  she  asked  ex- 
citedly. 

"  I  left  him  with  the  devotees,"  replied  Asita,  "until 
I  should  return  to  the  mountain  for  food,  which  the 
pilgrims  have  left  by  this  time.  Thy  husband  is  safe. 
Is  the  child  asleep  ?" 

u  She  is,"  replied  the  mother,  with  a  glance  at  the 
basket. 

"  Mahdri,  dost  thou  know  her  fate  if  she  should 
live  ?  " 

"  I  know  not,  unless  it  shall  be  even  as  my  own  has 
been.  The  future  to  me  is  dark.  I  try  not  to  think  about 
it.  My  husband  is  seeking  the  light,  and  when  he  shall 
have  found  it  he  will  tell  me.  Resting  in  that  hope,  I 
give  myself  no  concern,  either  for  myself  or  the  child. 
We  follow  him." 
6 


82  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

"  Ah,  how  little  thou  knowest  of  human  destiny !" 
replied  Asita.  "  She  can  never  share  thy  fate,  neither 
canst  thou  share  his.  The  religious  barriers  between 
woman  and  man  are  as  insuperable  as  the  social  barriers 
of  caste  between  man  and  man.  The  child  is  now  at. the 
age  when  all  Hindu  girls  must  be  given  in  marriage ; 
but  thou,  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land,  and  a  Pariah 
besides,  hast  no  one  to  whom  she  may  be  given.  A 
woman  without  a  husband  is  a  disgrace  forever.  The 
only  merit  possible  for  her  to  attain  is  by  the  most  ser- 
vile obedience  to  him  who  has  the  rule  over  her.  She 
may,  in  that  case,  be  born  in  the  next  life  as  a  man  of 
high  caste,  whence  salvation  is  easily  secured;  but 
otherwise  her  soul  is  condemned  to  inhabit  the  body  of 
a  brute,  from  which  there  is  but  little  hope  of  release  by 
means  of  good  deeds.  The  future  happiness  of  the 
child,  as  well  as  thine  own,  depends  upon  thyself.  It 
may  be  secured  by  one  act  quickly  done,  though  the 
affliction  may  seem  hard  for  the  present.  Think  of 
what  I  have  said  till  my  return,  when  I  will  further 
instruct  thee.  But  remember  this :  The  pleasure  or 
grief  experienced  in  this  short  life  is  nothing  compared 
to  the  happiness  or  misery  which  shall  be  the  reward 
of  the  next." 

With  these  words  he  turned  and  proceeded  in  the 
direction  of  the  mountain. 

Mahdri  stood  as  if  dazed.  Deep  religious  emotion, 
for  the  first  time,  stirred  her  soul.  But  even  then  her 
only  concern  was  for  her  child.  Raising  the  covering 
of  the  basket,  she  gazed  fondly  upon  the  sleeping  form 
The  long  silken  lashes,  drawn  peacefully  over  the 
brown  eyes;  the  cheeks,  dimpled  and  rosy;  the  chubby 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  83 

limbs  encircled  by  golden  bands,  the  only  memento  of 
the  Golden  Face ;  and  the  dark,  glossy  ringlets  tossed 
loosely  about  the  round  little  head,  formed  a  picture  as 
lovely  as  that  which  adorns  the  cradle  of  any  American 
mother,  and  equally,  if  not  more  dear  to  the  poor, 
yearning  heart  that  had  nothing  save  husband  and 
child  to  love.  Gazing  with  a  soul  full  of  tenderness 
upon  the  little  one,  she  said : 

"  Can  it  be  true,  my  sweet  babe,  that  life  has  in  store 
no  joy  for  thee  ?  While  the  lovely  Nautch  girls  dance 
like  devos  in  the  temple,  and  while  the  Hindu  children 
play  in  the  rich  zenanas,  sipping  like  humming-birds 
from  all  the  sweets  of  life — must  my  dear  one  be  an 
outcast,  disgraced,  and  shunned  by  all  ?  Oh,  it  cannot, 
it  must  not  be !  I  would  give  my  own  life  to  make 
thee  happy !  " 

Lost  in  contemplation  of  her  child's  destiny,  she 
thought  no  more  of  her  former  distrust  of  the  Brahmin, 
but  looked  up  eagerly  as  his  deformed  shadow  once 
more  fell  at  her  feet. 

u  Holy  Brahmin  !  "  she  cried,  "  tell  me  what  I  may 
do  to  secure  the  happiness  of  my  child." 

The  old  man's  keen,  black  eyes  sparkled  with  delight 
to  see  her  anxiety. 

"  As  I  said,  Mahdri,  one  act  will  release  her,  both  from 
the  disgrace  resting  upon  her  in  this  life,  and  the  misery 
in  store  for  her  in  the  next.  This  act  thou  art  also  in 
duty  bound  to  perform  for  another  reason.  Thy  hus- 
band, when  at  Benares,  made  a  vow  to  the  gods  which 
he  has  never  paid.     Both  demand  a  human  sacrifice." 

With  quick  apprehension,  she  turned  to  the  basket. 

"My  child!"  she  cried,  "  Oh,  do  not  tell  me  I  must 
part  from  her." 


84  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

"  Only  think,"  insisted  the  Brahmin,  "  all  thy  hus- 
band's pangs  of  soul  removed,  thou  shalt  secure  thine 
own  redemption  by  that  most  holy  act,  which  alone  can 
save  the  child.  Eternal  sorrow  sh-all  be  hers  if  this  is 
not  done,  for  the  curse  of  womanhood,  which  might 
thus  be  removed,  will  rest  forever  upon  her,  and  thy 
conscience  will  sting  thee  for  neglect. 

"Ganga  is  a  more  merciful  mother  than  even  thyself. 
The  little  body,  cradled  on  the  waters  of  the  Ganges, 
ghall  be  joyfully  received  by  the  great  Mother,  and  her 
soul  shall  pass  immediately  into  a  body  of  nobler  order, 
perhaps  even  a  Brahmin.  If  thou  shall  refuse  to  do 
this,  life  ever  afterwards  will  be  a  burden,  and  thou 
shalt  continually  reprove  thyself,  saying :  'I  have  borne 
a  child  into  the  world  subject  to  disgrace  among  men, 
and  eternal  banishment  from  the  presence  of  the  gods. 
My  husband's  vow  is  unpaid.  I,  myself,  must  degener- 
ate into  a  brute,  because  I  refused  to  obey  the  holy 
Brahmin  who  has  power  over  even  the  gods.'  Can  a 
mother's  love  allow  this?  " 

Mahdri  remained  in  stupefied  horror,  looking  first  at 
the  Brahmin,  then  at  the  sleeping  child.  At  length, 
regaining  her  power  of  speech,  she  said  : 

"  Buddha  forbade  us  to  take  the  life  of  even  an  insect, 
and  shall  a  mother  murder  her  own  child?  " 

"  Thy  husband  has  renounced  the  religion  of  Buddha," 
replied  Asita,  "  and  even  if  he  had  not  this  act  would 
be  right  under  the  circumstances.  To  kill  a  beast  is 
murder,  because  the  soul  which  it  contains  would  he 
driven  into  a  still  lower  being ;  but  to  sacrifice  a  child, 
of  one's  own  flesh  and  blood  is  a  meritorious  deed,  com- 
bining with  it  both  maternal  worship  and  infant  sal- 
vation." 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  85 

Mahdri  looked  sorrowfully  and  thoughtfully  upon  the 
basket;  then  folding  her  arms  with  a  look  of  determi- 
nation, she  turned  and  said  : 

"  I  am  resolved.  I  will  leave  the  child  to  her  father 
and  throw  myself  into  the  Ganges.  Will  that  be  suf- 
ficient?" 

" That  would  save  thyself  alone;  being  thy  own  act 
and  committed  on  thine  own  body,  no  benefit  could 
arise  either  to  husband  or  child.  In  fact  she  would  be 
left  in  a  worse  condition  than  ever,  without  even  a 
mother's  care.  Consent;  it  is  the  only  way.  Thy  hus- 
band can  then  return  from  the  forest,  and  together,  you 
can  enter  life  again,  assured  of  future  happiness. " 

The  mother's  heart  was  breaking  as  she  weighed  re- 
sponsibility with  love. 

"Give  me  time  to  decide,"  she  entreated ;  "at  least 
another  day  to  enjoy  the  companionship  of  my  darling." 

But  Asita  was  too  cunning  to  allow  her  time  for  de- 
liberation. Knowing  that  if  he  could  not  induce  her 
to  act  while  thus  confused,  she  would  be  sure  to  refuse 
after  reflection ;  and  all  hope  would  be  lost  if  Mekara 
should  learn  his  designs.  So  he  insisted  on  immediate 
action. 

A  new  difficulty  arose  to  Mahdri. 

"  How  could  I  ever  meet  her  father  and  shoAV  him  an 
empty  cradle?  "  she  asked ;  "  and  how  could  I  convince 
him  that  I  had  done  right?  " 

"  Never  fear,"  replied  the  artful  Brahmin,  "  thy  hus- 
band himself  desires  it,  and  bade  me  persuade  thee. 
His  religious  convictions  are  so  strong  that  he  has  con- 
sented to  part  with  the  dearest  idol  of  this  life  in  order 
to  secure  rest  and  peace  for  all  his  family.     'Tis  his 


86  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

request,  and  not  mine,  that  thou  should'st  perform  this 
sacred  duty.  For  what  benefit  could  it  be  to  me?  Con- 
sider, and  act." 

Doubting,  fearing,  loving,  stood  Mahdri.  Asita  had 
promised,  encouraged  and  harrassed  her  till  she  had  no 
thought,  feeling,  or  action  of  her  own.  Almost  uncon- 
sciously she  lowered  the  basket  from  the  tree,  and  lift- 
ing out  the  still  sleeping  child,  turned  in  the  direction 
of  the  river,  bearing  the  precious  burden  clasped  tightly 
to  her  beating  heart. 

Asita  stood  leaning  on  his  staff  watching  her  eagerly. 

Just  as  she  reached  the  river  bank  the  child  struggled, 
and  reaching  out  her  arms  called  in  baby  tones  for  her 
play-mates,  the  young  gazelles.  Then  opening  her  eyes 
and  seeing  where  she  was,  she  lay  passively  in  her 
mother's  arms  looking  confidingly  up  into  her  face. 
Mahdri  quickly  drew  the  vail  over  the  little  face  that 
she  might  not  be  deterred  in  her  purpose  by  the  plead- 
ing look  of  the  soft  eyes.  Unclasping  one  of  the  little 
bracelets  she  thrust  it  into  her  bosom,  murmuring,  "  It 
is  thy  father's  command,  sweet  child,  that  I  should  do 
this  awful  deed.  Had  he  not  so  wished  I  could  never 
have  done  it.     But  he  knows  best,  and  we  must  obey." 

Approaching  an  opening  among  the  rushes,  in  full 
view  of  the  broad,  placid  stream  below,  she  gazed  long- 
ingly, for  a  moment,  upon  the  little  form  in  her  arms ; 
then  turning  her  face,  that  she  might  not  witness  the 
deed  of  her  own  hands,  she,  with  all  her  might,  threw 
the  little  one  far  into  the  stream ;  then  ran  shrieking 
from  the  spot,  but  not  too  soon  to  hear  the  heart- 
piercing,  half-stifled  scream  of  terror  as  the  child 
struck  the  water. 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  87 

Asita's  eyes  danced  with  delight  as  he  beheld  the 
deed,  and  chuckling  to  himself,  he  glided  like  a  phan- 
tom into  the  woods. 

"  Aha !  Aha !  my  prince,"  he  said.  "  One  more  tie 
severed  and  I  will  have  thee  safe.  The  mother  shall 
soon  follow  the  child." 

Mekara  could  never  become  an  ascetic  while  encum- 
bered by  domestic  ties ;  and  the  Brahmin  knew  full 
well  that  he  would  never  consent  to  part  with  wife  and 
child ;  hence,  this  strategy. 

Mahdri  never  stopped  till  she  sank  exhausted  under 
the  banyan-tree  beside  the  now  empty  basket.  She 
then  realized,  for  the  first  time,  what  she  had  done,  and 
burying  her  face  in  the  long  grass  she  burst  into  a 
frenzy  of  tears. 

"  O,  my  child !  my  child  !  "  she  cried,  "  to  think  thy 
downy  couch  must  be  exchanged  for  a  crocodile's  jaws ! 
Even  now  I  see  his  shining  teeth  piercing  thy  tender 
flesh.     Would  I,  too,  were  dead !  " 

The  young  gazelles  once  more  came  in  from  the  forest 
and  walked  about  under  the  tree  as  if  seeking  their 
little  play-fellow.  They  approached  the  empty  basket, 
side  by  side,  and  looked  in  inquiringly.  Then,  as  if 
understanding  the  mother's  grief,  they  stood  bleating 
by  her  side,  and  placed  their  heads  down  to  her  face. 
Clasping  each  aboui  the  slender  neck  she  cried : 

"  Ah !  you,  too,  miss  sweet  Manohara.  Her  little  feet 
shall  no  more  leave  their  tiny  tracks  in  the  dust  of  the 
plain ;  her  glad  voice  no  more  enliven  the  gloom  of  our 
exile !    Happy  are  you  who  know  not  a  mother's  grief." 


CHAPTER  III. 

"  We  have  chosen  this  for  road 
And  tread  it,  Rajaputra,  till  the  close — 
Though  all  its  stones  "were  fire— in  trust  of  death. 
Speak,  if  thou  knowest  a  -way  more  excellent ; 
If  not,  peace  go  -with  thee ! " 

—Edwin  Amol  . 

Mekara  looked  up  anxiously  as  Asita  approached  the 
tree  against  which  he  was  leaning. 

"  Hast  thou  seen  my  wife  and  child?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  saw  them  under  the  banyan-tree  playing  with  the 
young  gazelles.  They  are  well  and  happy,"  glibly 
replied  the  old  idolator. 

"Hast  thou  decided  to  adopt  Asceticism  in  any  of  its 
forms?" 

Mekara  shook  his  head.  "  I  cannot  see,"  he  said, 
"  how  the  soul  is  to  be  purified  by  any  of  the  means  I 
have  seen.  Methinks  that  bodily  filth  would  lead  to 
spiritual  pollution,  and  that  too  much  seclusion  would 
rather  dwarf  than  expand  the  soul.  My  faith  is  yet  too 
weak." 

Asita  was  content  to  teach  him  first  the  practice 
which  was  most  easy,  in  the  hope  of  stimulating  him 
to  further  austerities  afterwards,  so  he  began  cautiously. 

"  Wilt  thou  do  a  favor  for  me  while  I  go  to  another 
shrine  in  the  forest?  " 

u  Name  it." 

"Yonder  is  a  group  of  maimed  men — some  without 
feet,  some  without  hands,  and  all  unable  to  feed  them- 
selves. Take  this  bowl  of  rice  and  give  to  each  a  mor- 
sel.    I  shall  not  tarry  long." 

(88) 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  89 

Mekara  promised,  and  received  the  bowl  from  the 
hands  of  the  Brahmin,  who  moved  off  hastily  through 
the  forest  in  an  opposite  direction  from  that  in  which 
he  had  come,  but  changing  his  course  when  out  of  sight. 

Mekara  took  the  bowl  and  began  feeding  the  helpless 
victims  of  superstition.  He  had  found  one  man 
deprived  of  both  hands  and  feet,  but  whose  tongue  had 
escaped  the  burning-iron ;  with  him  he  entered  into 
conversation. 

"  Why,  O  brother,"  he  asked,  "  do  ye  all  practice  such 
horrid  and  unnatural  tortures  ;  is  it  not  a  crime  against 
Nature?" 

"It  is  to  cleanse  the  soul  from  sin,  Sahib;  has  not 
Asita  told  thee  as  much  already?  He  promised  me 
that  with  the  loss  of  my  limbs  I  should  receive  atone- 
ment for  all  the  sins  of  my  youth.  I  think  nothing  of 
these  bodily  pains  if  thereby  I  am  purified  within." 

"If  I  mistake  not,"  said  the  prince,  "thou  art  a 
Sudra ;  what,  then,  will  become  of  thy  sanctified  soul 
after  death?" 

"  It  will  enter  another  body  of  higher  caste." 

"  Will  it  then  be  exempt  from  the  sufferings  imposed 
during  this  life?" 

"  No ;  the  same  agonies  must  be  endured  in  each  suc- 
cessive stage  until  its  final  absorption." 

"Surely,"  said  Mekara,  "there  must  bo  some  means 
by  which  the  soul  may  be  permanently  released.  I  see 
no  reason  why  a  being,  sanctified  in  this  life,  should  be 
subject  to  suffering  in  the  next.  Art  thou  sure  that 
thou  hast  not  missed  the  way?" 

"  We  have  been  taught  no  other,"  responded  the  fakir, 
"if  thou  knowest  of  a  better,  tell  it." 


90  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

"Alas!"  said  Mekara.  "  For  that  I  have  long  been 
seeking,  but  have  found  it  not.  We  are,  all  alike,  grop- 
ing in  darkness." 

The  calmness  of  despair  had  come  over  Mahdri,  and 
while  the  gazelles  went  out  on  the  plains,  she  sat  motion- 
less on  the  grass,  brooding  over  her  irretrievable  loss, 
and  thinking  what  she  could  do  with  herself. 

A  quick,  halting,  step  was  hoard  approaching,  and 
looking  around  she  saw  again  the  bent  form  of  Asita. 
Suspecting  some  evil  design  in  his  hasty  return,  the 
distrust  of  the  morning  arose  again  within  her,  and  she 
was  about  to  accuse  him  of  the  murder  of  her  child  ; 
but  something  in  his  strange,  excited  manner  restrained 
her,  and  seeing  that  he  had  something  to  tell,  she  arose 
and,  looking  at  him  with  stony  eyes,  waited. 

"  Mahdri,"  he  began  falteringly,  and  with  seeming 
hesitation,  "  it  becomes  my  painful  duty  to  break  to 
thee  the  tidings  that  the  second  greatest  curse  visited 
upon  woman  has  this  day  befallen  thee.  Thou  art  a 
widow." 

Her  heart  gave  a  great  throb  and  was  still  ;  her  mus- 
cles twitched  convulsively,  but  she  remained  motion- 
less.    Folding  her  arms,  she  said  simply : 

"  Go  on.  My  heart  is  broken.  I  can  bear  anything 
now." 

"  While  I  was  gone,"  he  continued,  "  thy  husband 
having  seen  all  the  devotees,  grew  weary  while  await- 
ing my  return  and  went  to  the  Ganges  to  bathe.  It 
was  where  the  river  runs  through  the  woods  and  is  lined 
on  eacn  side  witn  dense  jungle.  Through  this  a  path 
has  been  cut  down  to  the  water's  edge,  where  we  carry 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  91 

the  dying  to  expire  in  the  water.  Underneath  the 
overhanging  branches  of  the  thicket  is  the  abode  of 
the  sacred  crocodile  which,  devours  the  bodies.  Thy 
husband,  not  knowing  the  nature  of  the  place,  and  I 
not  being  there  to  tell  him,  went  into  the  water,  not 
suspecting  any  danger  and  was  immediately  seized  by 
the  huge  beast. " 

"  Ah !  "  she  cried,  "  would  that  I  had  listened  to  the 
voice  of  my  husband  and  remained  in  the  palace  of  the 
Golden  Face !  Then  would  my  child,  at  least,  have 
been  saved,  and  I  should  have  escaped  this  double 
calamity.     And  now  the  last  hope  of  life  is  gone !  " 

"  Grieve  not  for  them,"  replied  Asita,  "  their  lot  is 
better  than  thine.  Indeed,  nothing  better  could  have 
happened  to  them.  To  die  in  the  Ganges,  and,  also  at 
the  mouth  of  the  sacred  crocodile,  is  worth  a  whole  life 
of  Asceticism,  or  a  voluntary  death  elsewhere.  They 
shall  be  born  of  high  caste." 

"But,"  mourned  Mahdri,  "  what  shall  I  do,  a  poor, 
despised  widow,  and  far  away  from  mine  own  country? 
For  my  husband  and  child  I  lived.  I  had  no  other 
love,  no  other  desire,  save  to  be  with  them.  Compared 
with  this  life  of  horror,  death  is  sweet.  I,  too,  will  die 
in  the  Ganges." 

"  That  is  now  the  only  hope,"  said  Asita.  "  The  law  of 
Menu  concerning  the  Suttee  of  widows  cannot  here  be 
carried  into  effect.  Thou  has  not  the  corpse  of  thy 
husband,  nor  even  his  sandals,  with  which  to  enter  the 
flames.  But,  to  insure  greater  merit,  I  would  advise 
thee  to  go  to  the  Holy  City  where  there  will  be  a  great 
festival  to-morrow.  Hundreds  rush  down  the  ghauts 
and  are  drowned  in  the  river,  thereby  atoning  for  ail 


92  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

sin  and  disgrace.  Be  thou  one  among  the  number.  Go 
to  the  village  yonder  and  a  boatman  will  carry  thee 
gladly.     I  advise  for  thy  good." 

She  stood  for  a  moment,  doubting,  then  laying  the 
rice-bowl  and  curry-pot  in  the  basket,  she  placed  it  on 
her  head  and  walked  away  towards  the  village  ringing 
her  hands. 

Sorrow  has  its  reward,  and  deep  grief  only  serves  to 
make  brighter  the  succeeding  joy.  Spring  is  the  more 
pleasant  because  it  follows  the  winter.  The  sun  shines 
brighter  after  a  storm.  Gold  is  purer  for  passing 
through  the  fire.  So  shall  it  be  with  Mahdri.  Her  light 
heart  had  never  been  made  to  feel  before  this  day,  and 
the  depths  of  her  soul  had  never  been  stirred.  The  Lord 
hath  selected  her  as  a  chosen  vessel  and  will  speak  to  her 
by  the  wayside. 


v. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"Here  is  the  common  destiDy  of  flesh ; 

The  high  and  low,  the  good  and  bad,  must  die : 

And  then,  'tis  taught,  begin  anew  to  live 

Somewhere,  somehow— who  knows?— and  so  again 

The  pangs,  the  parting,  and  the  lighted  pile ; 

Such  is  man's  round."  —  Arnold. 

Mekara  was  still  talking  with  the  devotees  when 
Asita  returned.  Handing  back  the  now  empty  bowl  he 
expressed  his  intention  of  returning  to  the  banyan  tree 
as  the  gathering  gloom  showed  that  the  sun  would  soon 
be  down,  and  Mahdri  would  be  anxious.  Asita  sought 
to  detain  him. 

"  Canst  thou  not  remain  through  the  night,"  he  asked, 
"  and  continue  the  work  just  performed  ?  Surely  good 
deeds  have  their  reward  and  thou  shalt  obtain  rest  and 
peace,  as,  by  degrees,  thou  art  absorbed  in  such  a 
life.     Remain,  I  pray  thee." 

"  Impossible.  Leave  my  family  unprotected  through 
the  night,  and  suffering  suspense  from  my  absence  !  " 

"Ah!  I  fear  thou  art  too  much  absorbed  in  such 
cares  to  ever  attain  perfection  of  soul.  Knowest  thou 
not  that  we  must  put  aside  even  conjugal  and  parental 
love?" 

"  Remember,  though,"  said  Mekara,  "  I  have  a  wife 
and  child  already.  Would  it  be  right  to  leave  them  to 
wander  in  a  strange  country  unprotected  ?  Surely  1 
could  not  be  required  to  do  such  a  base  deed." 

"Thou   art   relieved  of   all    responsibility  regarding 

them,"  replied  Asita. 

(93) 


94  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

"  In  what  manner  ?  " 

"  Their  souls  have  made  their  passage,  and  their  bodies 
repose  on  the  bosom  of  Ganga,  the  divine  Mother." 

Mekara  was  thunder-struck,  scarcely  comprehending 
what  he  heard. 

"What!'7  ho  said,  "  didst  thou  not  see  them  safe  under 
the  banyan  at  noon?   Whatknowest  thou  more  than  I?" 

"There  are  Thugs  in  the  forest  who  worship  the 
goddess  Kali.  Their  occupation  is  to  rob  and  slay  hu- 
man victims  in  worship  to  her.  Both  thy  wife  and  child 
wore  bracelets,  ear-rings  and  anklets.  Thugs,  in  pass- 
ing, took  them  captive  and  were  bearing  them  alive 
through  the  forest  on  their  way  to  Kali's  temple  where 
they  were  to  be  sacrificed.  I  saw  them  but  now  in  the 
wood,  and  cried  to  them  to  stop.  Seeing  me  they  hastily 
strangled  the  victims,  stripped  them  of  their  ornaments 
and  threw  the  bodies  into  the  river." 

"  Be  not  grieved,  O  prince,  it  is  best.  They  have 
thus  both  escaped  the  curse  resting  upon  womanhood." 

Mekara  was  overcome  with  remorse  and  grief.  "  Oh, 
why  did  I  ever  leave  them,"  he  cried, "  even  for  an  hour, 
alone  in  the  forest !  Lead  me  quickly  to  the  place  that 
I  may  rescue  their  bodies  to  be  burned!" 

"  It  is  too  late  now,"  replied  Asita,  "  the  water  is  full 
of  crocodiles  and  both  have  been  devoured  ere  this." 

"  Show  me  the  way  any  how,"  demanded  Mekara ;  "  I 
would  behold  the  place  where  they  died  that  I  may  weep 
over  them." 

The  Brahmin  could  make  no  further  excuse  and  moved 
oft"  reluctantly,  closely  followed  by  the  impatient  father. 

At  length  they  reached  an  opening  in  full  view  of  the 
river. 

„Here,"  said  Asita,  "  is  the  place  I  saw  them  last." 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  95 

Mekara  rushed  to  the  bank  and  looked  down.  The  long 
grass  had  not  been  trampled,  the  mud  in  the  edge  of 
the  stream  was  untouched,  and  there  was  no  sign  of  a 
struggle,  or  even  an  approach  to  the  bank. 

Realizing  the  deception  that  had  been  practiced  upon 
him,  he  suspected  the  design  of  the  old  Brahmin. 
Filled  with  rage  and  grief  as  a  lioness  for  her  whelps, 
he  seized  the  old  man  by  the  beard,  and,  shaking  him 
till  his  loosened  teeth  chattered  in  his  head,  and  the 
dry  bones  popped  in  the  withered  skin,  he  cried . 

"  False  Brahmin,  thou  hast  lied!  No  one  in  all  this 
land  except  thine  own  evil,  designing  self  could  look 
upon  the  fair  form  of  my  Mahdri,  or  into  the  innocent 
eyes  of  little  Manohara,  and  take  their  lives,  either  for 
spoil  or  sacrifice.  Confess  to  me  that  thyself  art  their 
destroyer ;  else  I  will  suspend  thy  wasted  body  from  the 
branches  of  a  tree  for  the  vultures  to  pick,  that  the 
Ganges  may  never  be  desecrated  by  thy  foul  carcass  !  " 

"  Confess !  " 

Shivering  with  terror,  and  frenzied  with  rage,  the 
Brahmin  screamed: 

"Wretch!  dost  thou  dare  to  lay  hands  upon  a  Brah- 
min ?  I  have  lost  caste,  and  the  gods  will  smite  thee 
dead  for  this  act !  " 

"  I  fear  no  gods  that  will  protect  such  as  thou  art. 
Tell  me  at  once,  what,  with  designing  hand,  or  lying 
tongue,  thou  hast  done  with  my  wife  and  child !  " 

Humbled  with  fear,  the  old  priest  replied : 

"I  confess.  It  is  no  harm  for  a  Brahmin  to  lie,  if, 
by  so  doing,  he  can  accomplish  designs  for  the  gods.  I 
persuaded  Mahdri  to  throw  herself  and  babe  into  the 
river,  both  to  save  them  and  make  thee  free  to  become 
an  ascetic      I  did  it  all  for  thy  good." 


96  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

Mekara  dropped  his  hand  as  if  stung ;  and  looking 
upon  the  shivering,  crouching  form  with  intense  loath- 
ing, he  said: 

"  Thou  hast  miserably  failed  in  thy  purpose.  I  regret 
that  I  ever  came  in  contact  with  thy  evil  presence.  But 
I  have  learned  the  true  nature  of  Brahminism,  and  the 
bigotry  of  Brahmins.  Deceiving  the  people  and  caus- 
ing them  to  believe  it  a  high  privilege  to  minister  unto 
you ;  the  fat  of  the  land  is  brought  by  deluded  thou- 
sands, as  offerings  to  the  gods,  passing  through  your 
voracious  mouths.  Go !  and  may  the  hissing  flames  of 
the  pyre  consume  thy  crackling  flesh  ere  thou  shalt  be 
permitted  to  lead  others  astray !  " 

Turning,  he  left  Asita  crest-fallen  and  chaffing; 
while  he  returned  towards  the  banyan  tree.  The  gazelles 
were  lying  on  the  grass.  But  not  even  a  handkerchief 
remained  to  remind  the  widowed  father  of  his  loved  ones. 
Going  to  the  river  he  found  where  Mahdri  had  stood 
with  the  child ;  and  looked  anxiously  but  in  vain  for 
traces  of  their  bodies,  not  dreaming  that  one  was  yet  in 
the  village  below. 

Having  seen  enough  of  the  Brahmin  religion,  coming 
so  near  the  truth  in  its  original  theories,  but  so  debas- 
ing in  practice,  he  determined  to  visit  the  mosques  of 
Mohammed.  So  loosing  a  boat  from  the  ghaut,  he 
turned  his  back  upon  the  banyan  grove,  the  mountain 
shrine,  and  the  lovely  plain,  where  he  had  been  made 
to  suffer  so  much.  It  was  now  past  sunset  and  the 
moon  soon  arose,  aiding  him  to  guide  his  boat  up  the 
river. 

The  god  of  the  Karens  was  almost  a  stranger;  the 
god  of  the  Brahmins,  a  myth.  What  will  the  god  of 
Mohammed  be  ? 


CHAPTER  V. 

"  Why  do  the  heathen  rage,  and  the  people  imagine  a  vain  thing?  " — Ps.  ii-1. 

As  Mahdri  entered  the  village  she  beheld  the  inhabi- 
tants in  unusual  commotion.  Some  huddled  together 
in  groups  as  if  discussing  an  afTair  of  great  importance, 
while  the  Brahmins  chatted  wildly  in  the  market-place. 
She  paid  no  attention  to  the  confusion,  but  proceeded 
at  once  to  the  ghauts,  intent  upon  securing  a  boat  to 
depart  immediately  for  the  Holy  City.  But  she  looked 
in  vain  for  those  who  had  the  boats  in  charge.  Not 
one  was  to  be  seen  anywhere.  So  she  started  for  the 
market-place,  inquiring  of  every  one  she  met  for  a  boat- 
man. But  everybody  seemed  excited,  and  could  give 
no  answer,  save  to  rush  for  the  market-place.  The 
commotion  gradually  attracted  her  attention  from  the 
gloomy  thoughts  of  her  sorrow,  and  she  began  to  take 
rome  notice  of  the  surroundings. 

A  man  stood  on  an  elevation  and  seemed  to  be  making 
v.w  effort  to  address  the  people,  but  their  continual  noise 
prevented  his  being  heard.  Mahdri  spoke  to  a  woman 
near  by  and  asked  what  it  all  meant. 

"  Not  much,"  replied  she  ;  "  a  man,  who  has  broken 
caste  and  escaped  prison,  is  trying  to  teach  a  new 
religion,  and  the  Brahmins  will  not  let  him  be  heard. 
A  white  man  was  with  him  this  morning,  who  went  on 
u])  the  river,  but  he  left  these  behind." 

And  she  handed  Mahdri  a  slip  of  printed  paper, 
7  (97) 


98  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

curiou3  to  a  Hindu,  accustomed  only  to  the  dried  leaves 
written  upon  with  a  stylus.     It  was  headed 

"THE  TRUE  GOD," 
and  spoke  of  his  character  and  his  relation  to  man,  of 
Jesus  and  his  aton^  aent  for  sin,  signed  by 

Felix  Carey,  of  the  Serampore  Mission. 

Mahdri  lost  sight  of  her  grief  for  a  moment  as  she 
contemplated  the  wonderful  tidings.  Here,  at  last,  was 
a  knowledge  of  God,  and  a  release  from  sin  with  its 
accompanying  sorrow.  Was  it  not  even  this  for  which 
her  husband  was  seeking?  True  she  had  never  been 
interested  in  religion  before,  but  the  memory  of  their 
long  quest  gave  her  curiosity  to  learn,  for  her  dead  hus- 
band's sake,  something  of  the  God  he  sought.  "  Oh  !  " 
she  thought,  "  would  that  he  had  lived  to  see  it.  What 
he  sought  for  and  found  not  has  come  to  me  without 
seeking." 

The  uproar  in  the  street  still  continued  as  long  as  the 
speaker  tried  to  talk.  Suddenly  he  folded  his  arms  and 
a  hush,  as  of  death,  pervaded  the  whole  throng.  Every 
car  was  intent  on  listening,  as  the  words  of  a  song  arose 
in  a  clear,  sweet  voice.  The  attention  of  a  Hindu,  no 
matter  how  boisterous,  can  always  bo  attracted  by 
poetry  or  song.     These  were  the  words : 

"  O  !  thou,  my  soul,  forget  no  more 

The  Friend  who  all  thy  sorrows  bore ; 

Let  every  idol  be  forgot, 

But,  O  !  my  soul,  forget  Him  not. 
•  ••....• 

Eternal  truth  and  mercy  shine 

In  Him,  and  he  himself  is  thine  ; 
And  can'st  thou,  then,  with  sin  beset, 

Such  charms,  such  matchless  charms,  forget  ? 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  99 

O  !  no  ;  till  life  itself  depart 
His  name  shall  cheer  and  warm  my  heart ; 
And,  lisping  this,  from  earth  I'll  rise, 
And  join  the  chorus  of  the  skies." 

It  was  the  voice  and  the  words  of  Krishna  Pal,  the 
first  Hindu  convert  to  Christianity. 

Mahdri's  tears  flowed  freely  as  the  spirit  of  God 
touched  her  soul,  and  echoed  in  her  heart  the  strange, 
sweet  words,  "  The  Friend  who  all  thy  sorrows  bore." 
She  wished  that  he  had  spoken  longer,  but  when  the 
song  was  ended  the  Brahmins  again  interfered,  and, 
distributing  his  tracts,  he  left  for  the  river. 

Mahdri  had  already  lost  faith  in  Asita  and  his  innu- 
man  prescriptions  for  sorrow ;  and  she  longed  to  tell 
this  kind-looking  man  her  story  and  learn  more  of  his 
religion  •  At  length  her  desire  overcame  her  timidity, 
and,  following  him  to  the  boat,  she  made  known  her 
request. 

Krishna  was  overjoyed  to  hear  her  inquiry ;  for  he 
was  leaving  in  disappointment,  thinking  that  his  visit 
had  effected  no  good.  Having  disposed  of  all  his  tracts 
he  was  about  to  return  to  the  mission  for  more,  as  his 
companion,  Felix  Carey,  had  taken  the  most  of  them 
up  the  river.  But  now  he  gladly  seated  himself  on  the 
bank  and  related  to  Mahdri  all  the  wonderful  things 
the  Lord  had  done  for  him ;  God's  mercy  in  the  great 
plan  of  redemption,  and  the  inconceivable  joy  and 
peace  that  come  to  those  who  worship  him  aright.  He 
told  her  of  how  he  had  broken  caste,  and  was  banished 
from  home  and  friends,  yet  was  happy  in  the  conscious- 
ness of  having  done  it  all  for  Christ. 

Mahdri  listened  eagerly  ;  anew  interest  aroused  within 
her.     Hitherto  she  had  worshiped  husband  and  child, 


100  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

but  as  she  heard  the  story  cf  God's  love,  her  heart  went 
out  to  him  in  earnest  prayer,  and  she  worshiped  God 
of  the  bible. 

Krishna,  seeing  how  it  was  with  her,  proposed  to  bap- 
tize her  at  once. 

"  Why  is  that  ?  "  she  enquired. 

"  Not  for  any  merit  there  is  in  the  water  ? "  said 
Krishna,  "  nor  that  the  Ganges  is  better  than  any  other, 
but  to  show,  that  as  Christ  died  for  thee,  was  buried, 
and  rose  again,  even  so  thou  hast  died  to  sin  and  risen 
to  a  new  life.  It  is  only  an  emblem — a  sign  to  the 
world." 

By  this  time  many  of  the  villagers  had  collected 
around  them,  curious  to  see  what  they  were  about  to  do. 

Krishna  offered  a  short  prayer  of  praise  and  thanks- 
giving to  God,  then  leading  Mahdri  by  the  hand  into 
the  water,  baptized  her  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  Son, 
and  Holy  Ghost. 

"  Now,"  said  Mahdri,  when  they  had  come  up  out  ot 
the  water,  "  I  have  here  no  friends,  nor  any  one  to  care 
for.  Let  me  go  with  thee,  I  pray,  to  the  Mission  and 
learn  to  work  for  Jesus.  He  alone  has  saved  me  from 
suicide  this  day,  and  for  him  I  wish  to  live." 

Krishna  willingly  consented,  and  getting  into  the 
boat,  they  left  behind  the  spot  that  had  been  the  scene, 
in  one  day,  of  events  long  to  bo  remembered. 

11  The  chain  of  caste  is  broken,  and  who  shall  be  able 
to  mend  it?" 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"  Fronting  this 
f  he  builders  set  the  bright  pavilion  up, 
Fair-planted  on  the  terraced  hill,  with  towers 
On  either  flank  and  pillored  cloisters  round."        —  Arnold. 

Agra,  once  the  favorite  capital  of  the  illustrious 
"Emperor,  Akbar,  outshone  all  the  cities  of  the  Orient 
in  royal  splendor,  and  unrivalled  architecture. 

Hither  Mekara  bent  his  course.  The  King  of  kings, 
^ho  so  adorned  Babylon  the  Great,  and  made  her  mis- 
tress of  the  world,  never  conceived  of  such  magnificence 
ns  glittered  in  Agra.  And  the  marvelous  hanging 
gardens,  a  wonder  of  the  world,  built  for  the  pleasure 
of  his  queen,  could  not  compare  with  the  wonderful 
Taj  Mahal,  a  mountain  of  jewels  erected  above  Shah 
Jehan's  wife,  the  lovely  Nour  Mahal.  No  monument 
erected  by  man  ever  approached  it  in  sublime  beauty. 

Once  a  school-boy,  on  a  north-bound  train  from  Nash- 
ville, stood  at  the  rear  window  of  the  coach  to  catch 
the  last  view  of  the  landscape  of  his  native  country. 

Gradually  the  different  parts  of  the  city  blended  to- 
gether; the  river  was  lost  from  sight;  the  lines  of 
streets  vanished,  and  the  houses  mingled  together  as 
one  mass ;  only  here  and  there  a  tall  factory-chimney 
could  be  distinguished,  sending  forth  its  tortuous  vol- 
umes of  smoke.  But  the  capitol,  at  first,  unseen  on  its 
lofty  base,  rose  into  more  prominent  view  as  surround- 
ing objects  vanished.  Mile  after  mile,  intervened;  the 
green  line  of  forests  were  lost  in  the  dim  horizon  ;  but 

(101) 


102         THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

the  marble  walls  yet  stood  proudly  in  sight.  The  hori- 
zon crept  over  the  hills  and  came  between ;  the  blue 
curtain  of  the  sky  dropped  down,  shutting  from  view  all 
other  objects,  even  the  colossal  hill  of  its  base ;  yet  it 
stood,  seemingly  without  foundation,  without  color  or 
perspective,  a  beautiful  shadow-gr°ph  in  the  heavens, 
an  airy,  unearthly  form  that  impressed  the  soul  with  a 
feeling  of  awe  which  was  not  relieved  until  a  curve  was 
turned  and  an  intervening  hill  obstructed  the  sight. 

Such  gives  only  a  faint  impr  ;ssion  of  a  first  view  of 
the  Taj.  A  cluster  of  white  bubbles  float  and  dance  in 
the  shimmering  air  like  phant  ms  of  luminous  clcud. 
Approaching,  they  gradually  assume  shape  and  settle 
on  their  respective  towers,  the  great  dome  in  the  midst ; 
all  seeming  ready  to  burst  into  the  air,  or  float  away 
with  the  breeze.  The  traveler  involuntarily  exclaims : 
"Is  it  from  heaven  or  earth?" 

Nor  does  a  nearer  view  discredit  its  celestial  design ; 
it  seems  too  pure,  too  airy,  for  earth ;  even  after  assum- 
ing form  and  settling  on  its  immense  base.  The  river 
Jumna  flows  beside  a  wall  of  red  sandstone,  itself  a 
marvel  of  sculpture,  ornamented  with  a  gato  most  ex- 
quisitely carved.  Within  is  a  garden  with  paved  walks ; 
blooming  groves,  and  sparkling  fountains ;  a  paradise 
for  loveliness. 

"  Passing  under  the  open  demi-vault,  whose  arch 
hangs  high  above  you,  an  avenue  of  dark  Italian  cy- 
presses appears  before  you.  Down  its  center  sp~rkl:p 
a  long  row  of  fountains,  each  casting  up  a  single  slender 
jet.  On  both  sides  the  palm,  the  banyan,  and  the 
feathery  bamboo  mingle  their  foliage  ;  the  song  of  birds 
meets  your  ear,  and  the  odor  of  roses  and  l3mon-flow3rs 


THE    CHILD    OF    THE    GANGES.  103 

sweetens  the  air.  Down  such  a  vista,  and  over  such  a 
foreground,  rises  the  Taj."  * 

Its  pure  white  marble  walls,  delicately  carved,  and 
ablaze  with  jewels,  stand  high  above  surrounding  trees 
and  mosques,  crowned  with  a  cluster  of  minarets  and 
domes;  and  surpassing  the  descriptions  of  El  Dorado's 
fabled  palaces.  Though  of  stupenduous  structure,  its 
size  is  never  fully  comprehended ;  so  exact  is  it  in  pro- 
portion and  so  delicate  in  finish.  The  walls  throughout 
are  ornamented  with  inscriptions  from  the  Koran  in 
inlaid  letters  of  black  marble ;  and  the  gigantic  en- 
trances as  intricately  wrought  as  an  ivory  jewel  casket. 

It  was  seventeen  years  in  building,  for  which  twenty 
thousand  men  were  employed.  The  various  provinces 
furnished  gems  and  precious  stones  in  abundance ; 
jasper  from  Punjab  ;  carnelians  from  Beruch  ;  turquoise 
from  Thibet ;  and  agates  from  Yemen. 

The  beholder  gazes  with  admiration  and  awe  upon 
the  glittering  pile,  almost  afraid  to  approach,  lest  it 
should  rise  and  float  away;  until  weary  with  looking, 
he  goes  away  only  to  be  drawn  back,  again  and  again, 
to  feast  his  soul  on  the  music  of  its  silent  poetry. 

Mekara  had  left  the  Ganges  and  crossed,  by  land,  to 
the  Jumna;  thence  proceeding,  as  before,  in  a  boat. 
As  he  saw  the  wonderful  structure,  standing  thus  away 
from  the  noise  of  the  city,  his  heart  gave  a  thrill  of 
hope. 

"Ah!  here,"  he  cried,  "must  be  the  temple  where 
the  Moslem  worships  God ;  so  pure,  so  grand,  so  unlike 
the  gaudy  shrines  of  Brahma,  Vishnu  and  Shiva.  Here 
will  I  enquire.  All  is  peace  and  quiet.  How  suited  to 
worship  and  devotion  !  " 

*  Bayard  Taylor. 


104  THE  CHILD  OP  THE  GANGES. 

He  stood  within  the  magnificent  gate-way ;  and, 
though  the  gilded  splendor  of  Benares  had  not  evoked 
his  admiration;  though  mourning  for  wife  and  child; 
his  soul  intent,  only  on  the  search  for  God ;  so  im- 
pressed was  he  by  the  scene,  that  he  forgot  for  a 
time  his  grief,  in  contemplation  of  what  his  eyes  be- 
held, lie  paused  for  a  moment  and  gazed  on  his  sur- 
roundings with  bated  breath;  then  reverently  ap- 
proached the  entrance  to  the  building. 

A  sloping  passage,  whose  walls  and  floors  have  been 
polished  by  the  hands  and  feet  of  thousands,  leads  to 
a  chamber  below.  Down  this  Mekara  walked,  holding 
carefully  lest  he  should  fall,  and  whispering  to  himself : 

"  Here  is  where  the  worshipers  go  to  offer  sacrifice. 
No  sound?  I  wonder  if  the  Muezzin  is  here  of  whom  I 
may  enquire." 

He  reached  the  chamber.  The  light  was  dim,  and 
the  air  was  redolent  with  the  perfumes  of  the  ottar  of 
roses,  jasmine,  and  sandal-wood.  No  altar  for  sacrifice, 
no  evidence  of  worship  of  any  kind,  but  in  the  centre 
was  a  sarcophagus  of  white  marble,  "exquisitely  inlaid 
with  blood-stone,  agate,  carnelian,  lapis-lazuli,  and  other 
precious  stones,"  and  inscribed  to  the  wife  of  Shah- 
Jchan,  "  The  Light  of  the  World."  A  wreath  of  fresh 
roses  lay  upon  the  top.  The  whole  was  surrounded  by 
a  screen  of  marble,  six  feet  high,  among  the  interstices 
of  which  were  woven  designs  of  lilies,  irises,  and  other 
flowers,  thickly  interspersed  with  precious  stones.  The 
scene  was  sweet,  solemn,  and  impressive ;  but  Mekara 
was  disappointed.  Could  all  this  noble  building  have 
been  designed  merely  as  a  monument  for  the  queen  of 
a  Mogul  lord? 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  105 

Retracing  his  steps,  he  ascended  the  marble  steps  to 
the  great  hall  above.  At  the  entrance  he  paused.  The 
first  sight  thrilled  him,  and  he  stood  speechless,  almost 
unconscious.  Stern,  strong-minded  men,  standing  thus 
have  burst  into  tears  at  the  rapturous  sight.  It  was 
simple,  beautiful,  grand.  The  pen  cannot  describe  the 
effect  of  it.  The  floors  of  polished  marble  reflect  as 
in  a  mirror,  the  jeweled  walls  and  mosaics  of  the 
ceiling  above.  Not  a  sound  is  heard,  yet  music  of  the 
sweetest  melody  seems  to  breathe  from  the  air  and 
touch  the  tenderest  chords  of  the  soul.  No  voice,  yet 
the  silence  is  eloquent. 

He  removed  the  sandals  from  his  feet  in  reverence, 
and  stepped  cautiously  toward  the  centre.  Even  his 
soft  foot-fall  resounded  like  the  distant  tread  of  thou- 
sands, and  it  seemed  that  he  could  hear  the  pulsations 
of  his  own  heart  The  walls  here,  as  elsewhere,  were 
thickly  inlaid  with  Koran  inscriptions  in  letters  of  black 
marble.  He  found  none  of  these  of  especial  interest, 
till,  casting  his  eyes  upward,  he  saw,  above  an  arch,  the 
inscription,  in  blazing  letters  of  gold,  ALL  AH  AKBAR ! 
("God  is  great.") 

Here,  after  months  of  wandering  and  suffering,  he 
found  once  more  the  great  Name,  the  Yuwah  of  Ko  Tha- 
Byu.  His  heart  was  sore  with  grief ;  his  body  worn  and 
fatigued;  and  his  soul,  long  filled  with  intense  yearn- 
ing, now  burned  with  fierce  desire;  and  falling  on  his 
face,  he  cried  in  anguish  to  the  Being  whose  name  he 
saw,  "0,  God  pity  me!" 

Like  the  swell  of  a  great  organ,  the  walls  resounded 
in  tones,  loud,  but  soft  and  tremulous.  Round  and 
round,  from  side   to    side,    echoed  the   reverberations, 


106  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

growing  softer  and  sweeter  as  they  neared  the  fretted 
vaults  above;  until,  entering  the  great  dome,  they  cir- 
cled shrill  and  sweet;  gradually  dying  away  in  soft 
undulations,  as  if  the  angels,  or  shining  devas  of  the 
air,  had  caught  the  words  and  borne  them  away  to  the 
gates  of  the  sky. 

Was  the  prayer  answered?  In  heaven  it  was  heard 
and  from  New  England  the  answer  comes. 

Mekara  lay  almost  stunned  with  surprise  at  the 
sounds,  but  soothed  with  the  blissful  sensations  pro- 
duced. When  the  last  echo  died  he  quietly  arose  and 
glided  softly  from  the  building.  All  this  had  been 
emotion.  As  yet  he  had  not  received  the  light  he  was 
seeking.  On  either  side  of  the  Taj  was  an  elegant 
mosque  of  splendid  workmanship.  Realizing  his  mis- 
take in  having  entered  a  tomb  instead  of  a  place  of  wor- 
ship, Mekara  went  at  once  to  these ;  but  both  were 
closed,  no  services  were  held  there.  They  were  built  to 
balance  the  effect  of  the  Taj,  and  not  for  worship. 

Disappointed  again,  he  turned  his  face  towards  the 
city. 

It  was  now  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  as  he  passed 
through  the  garden  of  Ram  Bagh  (garden  of  Rama), 
he  saw  a  long  row  of  shrines,  facing  the  river,  before  lit- 
tle black  idols.  Lamps  were  lighted  in  front  of  them 
and  a  Hindoo  stood  before  each,  waving  a  torch  back 
and  forth,  and  crying,  "  Ram,  Ram  !  Ram,  seeta  Ram  !" 
Then  having  poured  Jumna  water  ever  the  images,  and 
twined  wreaths  of  flowers  about  their  oily  necks, 
departed  with  a  clear  conscience  of  duty  performed. 


m 


107 


108  THE   CHILD   OF   THE    GANGES. 

Mekara  recalled  a  quotation  in  Tamil,  from  one  of 
the  old  clasic  poets : 

''The  lifeless  stone  a  god  you  call,  and  flowers  in  offering  bring; 
Around  and  round  with  muttering  sound,  fool !  many  a  prayer 

you  sing ; 
But  will  the  lifeless  stone  speak  out  ?    Will  God  within  it  go  ? 
Yes,  when  the  pot  in  which  'tis  cooked  the  curry's  taste  shall 

know." 

No  comfort  could  be  derived  from  such  scenes  as  this, 
so  he  entered  the  city  and  retired  to  a  bungalow  for  the 
night. 

Next  morning  he  roamed  through  the  city  of  the 
Moguls  seeking  to  learn  all  he  could  of  the  Moslem 
religion.  The  zenanas  were  of  extravagant  beauty,  and 
the  rich  occupants  lounged  within,  fanned  by  punkas, 
or  swinging  fans,  and  waited  upon  by  attendants  in 
gorgeous  livery.  Wealth  and  sensual  enjoyment  seemed 
to  be  the  end  for  which  they  strove ;  and  he  knew,  from 
the  history  of  past  conquerors,  that  a  thirst  for  power 
was  one  of  their  ruling  passions. 

When  the  bells  rang  for  prayers  every  man,  woman, 
and  child  of  Mchammedan  faith  bowed  with  their  faces 
toward  Mecca  and  prayed.  No  idol,  nor  image  of  any 
kind,  was  to  be  seen.  This  pleased  Mekara,  to  know 
that  he  had,  at  last,  found  a  religion  void  of  idols. 
But  when  he  learned  the  reason  of  all  turning  their 
faces  as  they  did,  he  thought : 

"  Ts  it  not  as  much  idolatry  to  worship  a  place  as  an 
image?  What  better  are  they  than  the  Hindus  who 
make  pilgrimages  to  Benares?" 

He  visited  the  Pearl  Mosque,  rightly  thus  named 
from  its  simple  beauty.     Essaying  to  enter,  he  received 


THE    CHILD    OF    THE    GANGES.  109 

a  peremptory  order  to  halt,  and  a  Mussulman  near  by- 
cried  . 

"  No  idolaters  allowed  within !  " 

11 1  am  not  an  idolator,"  said  Mekara. 

"Dost  thou  worship  Allah  whose  prophet  is  Mo- 
hammed? " 

"  I  know  him  not.  I  seek  a  God  whom  I  may  wor- 
ship.    Idols  I  abhor." 

"  Dost  thou  believe  the  Koran?  " 

"What  is  that?  "  enquired  Mekara. 

"Our  Sacred  Book,  containing  the  principles  of  our 
religion." 

"  I  never  saw  it.  Head  to  me  from  it  that  I  may 
know  its  teachings." 

"Wilt  thou  first  accept  our  faith?" 

"I  cannot  until  I  know  what  it  is." 

"  Our  religion  was  established  by  the  sword,  and  its 
doctrines  taught  afterwards.  It  is  an  abomination  for 
an  unbeliever  to  be  allowed  to  look,  into,  or  hoar  read, 
the  pages  of  the  sacred  Koran.  This  much  will  I  tell 
thee,  there  is  one  God  and  Mohammed  is  his  Prophet. 
Embrace  our  faith,  and  thou  shalt  have  for  thyself  a 
copy  of  the  Koran." 

"  But,"  said  Mekara,  "  how  can  I  acknowledge  a  creed 
I  know  not?  I  believe  there  is  one  God;  but  of  him 
I  know  nothing  for  certain,  and  what  evidence  have  I 
of  the  fact  that  Mohammed  is  his  Prophet  ?" 

"Thou  hast  our  word  for  it,"  replied  the  Mussulman, 
"  that  the  Holy  Book  so  declares ;  but  further  words 
are  useless ;  go  back  into  the  city,  observe  our  practices, 
and  then  judge  of  our  creed.  When  thou  art  ready  to 
embrace  it,  return  and  I  will  then   instruct  thee  in  all 


1  1  U  THE    CHILD    OF    THE    GANGES. 

our  vital  doctrines.  Peace  go  with  thee."  And  he 
gave  a  gesture  with  his  hand  as  a  token  that  the  con- 
versation was  closed. 

"  Strange  doctrine  tb^,"  thought  Mekara  as  he  turned 
once  more  into  the  busy  street.  "  I  had  hoped  to  fir  d 
my  ideal  in  the  God  of  Islam,  but  maoy  of  their  prac- 
tices are  revolting.  Oh,  that  I  could  find  such  a  God 
as  the  Karens  once  knew  !  How  I  would  love  and  serve 
him  the  remainder  of  my  days !  " 

For  almost  a  week  he  loitered  in  the  streets  and 
houses,  watching  closely  every  season  of  prayer  and 
every  religious  service,  often  standing  at  the  door  of 
the  mosques  and  looking  upon  the  worshipers  at  their 
devotions,  striving  to  catch  every  word  spoken  in  refer- 
ence to  the  religion  in  question.  The  more  he  saw  and 
heard,  the  more  dissatisfied  he  was  with  it.  He  never 
returned  to  the  Pearl  Mosque  for  instruction.  Not 
finding  an  answer  to  the  question  of  his  heart,  he  pro- 
ceeded again  up  the  Jumna  and  stopped  at  Delhi. 

Delhi !  A  vision  of  the  lovely  gardens  described  in 
"Lallah  Rookh"  floats  before  the  eyes  at  mention  of 
the  name ;  a  perfume  of  tropical  flowers  is  wafted  by 
the  breeze,  and  a  sound  of  poetry  greets  the  ear.  The 
very  soul  is  oppressed  by  the  gorgeous  display  of  Orien- 
tal magnificence. 

Palaces  by  the  river  side,  dazzling  in  the  sunlight 
and  reflected  from  the  water  below ;  barges  floating  on 
the  Jumna  with  shining  banners;  bazaars  draped  in 
richest  tapestry;  balconies  resounding  with  music  and 
dancmg;  golden  pinnacles  and  marble  pavilions,  char- 
acterized the  Imperial  City  of  the  Moguls. 

Like  a  flower  that  has  been  more  than  once  cut  down, 
the  romantic  city  has  risen,  time  and  again,  from  ruins 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  Ill 

of  former  glory.  For  miles  over  the  country,  amid 
luxuriant  vegetation,  may  be  seen  the  picturesque 
remains  of  ruined  temples,  deserted  shrines  of  the 
expelled  religion  of  Buddha,  dilapidated  forts,  and 
crumbling  palaces. 

Every  foot  of  ground  has  been  deluged,  again  and 
again,  with  human  blood;  yet  the  rose  blooms  as  if  a 
crime  had  never  stained  the  Eden  bowers.  Here 
Timour,  in  one  day,  slew  one  hundred  thousand  prison- 
ers. A  great  multitude ;  but  the  restless  world  took  no 
notice.  Like  the  mist  of  the  morning,  they  passed 
away  and  were  forgotten.  Shall  they  ever  be  remem- 
bered more?  Aye,  and  sadly,  too.  Each  had  a  soul, 
and  that  soul  knew  not  God.  We  shall  behold  them  in 
the  Later  Day  as  they  stand  with  their  murderers  before 
the  tribunal  of  God.  It  is  a  terrible  thing  to  see  a 
human  life  wander  in  gloom  and  then  expire  in  dark- 
ness. May  God  preserve  the  poor  wretches  who  yet 
grope  and  fall,  crying  in  despair,  throughout  that  lovely 
land! 

Mekara's  soul  was  sick  of  opulent  display  combined 
with  spiritual  poverty,  Religion  in  Delhi  and  religion 
in  Agra  were  the  same.     He  could  not  endure  to  remain. 

Buddhism  had  no  God;  Brahminism  worshiped 
God  through  images ;  Mohammedanism  had  almost 
conceived  of  his  true  nature ;  but  perfect  satisfaction 
came  not  yet. 

"  I  will  cross  the  Himalayas  to  China,"  he  said. 

Back  to  the  Ganges  he  again  pursued  his  course. 
He  stopped  at  the  gate  of  Hurdwar.  Here  were  mil- 
lions gathered  to  the  annual  feast.  From  every  direction 
and  in  all  garbs,  they  came ;  from  the  far  off  Deecan, 


112  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

from  the  Punjab,  from  Cashmere,  and  China;  old  and 
young,  rich  and  poor.  All  had  sinned  and  must  cleanse 
themselves  in  the  celebrated  fountain  where  Brahma, 
the  Creator  of  the  world,  performed  his  ablutions. 

Thousands  of  fakirs  were  here,  of  every  description, 
even  more  horrible  than  those  in  the  Grove  of  Sorrow. 

At  the  tinkling  of  a  bell  four  hundred  thousand  men 
and  women  rushed  down  the  steep  ghauts  to  bathe  in 
the  stream.  Thousands  were  crushed  beneath  the  feet 
of  the  eager  multitude  behind,  and  the  sacred  mother 
bore  their  forms  rapidly  away,  struggling  and  gasping, 
yet  saved  (?). 

Thus,  for  thousands  of  years,  has  the  voracious  mother 
eagerly  devoured  her  children ;  and  Juggernaut  smiles 
to  see  his  wheels  of  stone  crush  his  dark  road  of  bleeding 
victims,  grinding  their  crackling  bones  into  the  ground 
made  soft  with  their  spurting  life-blood. 

Truly  the  being  without  God  has  a  miserable  life,  a 
miserable  death,  and  the  hereafter — Who  can  tell? 

Mekara  could  bear  no  more.  Up  the  mountain  side 
he  struggled.  On  a  lofty  peak  he  stood  and  surveyed 
the  vast  wilderness  of  crags,  ice,  and  snow,  which 
marked  the  stormy  home  of  Indra. 

There,  in  view  of  the  "  Celestial  Empire"  far  below, 
his  soul  thirsting,  and  his  voice  calling  for  God,  we 
leave  him. 

May  He  who  watcheth  the  sparrow's  fall  listen  to  the 
heathen's  cry. 


(113) 


BOOK  THIRD- 


CHAPTER  I. 

L'  Marvelously  like,  their  voices— and  themselves  \ 
The-'  one  is  somewhat  deeper  than  the  other, 
As  one  is  somewhat  graver  than  the  other— 
*    *    *    Let  me  ask  you  then  : 
Which  voice  most  takes  you?  for  I  do  not  doubt. 
Being  a  watchful  parent,  you  are  taken 
With  one  or  the  other, 
*****    They  both  are  beautiful ; 
Evelyn  is  gayer,  wittier,  prettier,  says 
The  common  voice,  if  one  may  trust  it ;  she  ? 
No!  but  the  paler,  and  the  graver,  Edith."—  Tennyson. 

The  June  sun  was  shining  brightly,  the  bees  working 
busily,  the  birds  singing  sweetly,  the  plow-boys  whist- 
ling cheerfully,  and  everything  combining  this  soft 
summer  day  to  gladden  the  hills  and  vales  of  New  Eng- 
land. The  little  village  of  Bradford,  Massachusetts,  lay 
basking  in  the  sunshine,  the  sparkling  Merrimac  flowing 
peacefully  by.  Scarcely  a  sound  of  life  was  heard  in  the 
streets;  even  the  clinking  hammer  of  the  blacksmith 
lay  silent  near  the  slumbering  embers  of  the  forge.  It 
was  the  dinner  hour. 

The  girls  in  Bradford  Academy  were  grouped  around 
the  teacher,  eating  their  lunch  and  discussing  merrily, 
as  girls  always  will,  the  latest  gossip  of  the  day — pic- 
nics, balls>  dresses,  ribbons,  boys,  and  innumerable 
other  matters  of  equal  weight  and  importance.     Lunch 

(114) 


THE    CHILD    OF    THE    GANGES.  115 

and  tlu.  grave  questions  involved  having  been  at  length 
disposed  of  to  the  entire  satisfaction  of  all,  the  fair 
participants  dispersed  to  the  shade  outside. 

"  Harriet !  Harriet !  "  called  a  sweet,  clear  voice  from 
the  rear  of  the  building,  "  come  around  here  in  the 
shade,  I  want  to  see  you." 

In  the  shade  of  the  house  a  swing  had  been  con- 
structed, in  which  was  seated  Bradford's  most  charming 
belle — a  plump  girlish  figure  just  turning  "  sweet  six- 
teen." Her  face  was  oval,  bright  with  intelligence,  and 
habitually  over-run  with  the  light  of  the  warm,  impul- 
sive nature  of  her  soul  within ;  eyes  deep  and  dark ; 
head  round,  and  covered  with  a  profusion  of  glossy 
black  curls,  that  streamed  behind  her  as  she  moved 
back  and  forth  in  the  swing,  or  dangled  mischievously 
over  her  ears  and  cheeks  when  she  was  still.  Her  coun- 
tenance was  all  animation  as  she  watched  eagerly  in 
the  direction  of  girlish  voices  which  she  heard  at  the 
end  of  the  house. 

Presently  a  light,  fragile  form  appeared  at  the  corner, 
and  she  who  had  been  addressed  as  Harriet  came  gently 
toward  the  girl  in  the  swing. 

"What  is  it,  Ann?"  she  asked  as  she  seated  herself 
by  her  friend.  Her  manner  was  less  ardent  than  that 
of  her  companion ;  her  voice  not  so  clear,  but  more 
mild  and  expressive. 

"Oh!"  replied  Ann,  "haven't  you  heard?  Why 
Mrs.  Roy  is  going  to  give  a  grand  ball  next  week,  and 
both  of  us  are  to  be  invited.  I  heard  Emma  talk- 
ing about  it  this  morning,  and  I  want  us  to  decide 
what  dresses  we  shall  wear  and  how  the  flowers  are  to 
be  arranged  in  our  hair.     Oh,  I  can  hardly  wait  till  the 


116  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

time  comes!  Next  week  is  so  far  off;  but  it  will  give 
us  time  to  arrange  pur  dresses.  Say,  what  do  you 
think?" 

A  faint  shadow  stole  across  Harriet's  face,  and  her 
voice  assumed  a  more  serious  tone,  when,  after  a  mo- 
ment's reflection,  she  said:  "I  shall  not  attend  the 
ball." 

"Not  attend  the  oall !  "  exclaimed  Ann,  almost  gasp- 
ing with  surprise.  "  Why,  Harriet,  what  has  come  over 
you?  How  can  you  think  of  missing  this,  the  grandest 
affair  that  has  been  in  Bradford  for  a  year?  Surely, 
dear,  you  are  jesting.  Now  say  you  were,  and  that  you 
will  go." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  disappoint  you,  Ann,"  she  replied 
gently  but  firmly,  "but  I  do  not  think  I  shall  ever  at- 
tend another  ball,  especially  when  in  school.  Such 
things  consume  a  great  deal  of  our  time  from  study, 
and  then  there  is  really  no  profit  in  them." 

Though  much  addicted  to  pleasure,  Ann,  owing  to 
her  naturally  quick  mind,  had  never  been  once  accused 
of  negligence  in  the  preparation  of  her  lessons.  So 
she  could  not  take  this  for  an  excuse. 

"  Fie !  Harriet,  there  is  nothing  in  that.  You  know 
I  go  to  such  things  as  much  as  any  girl  in  school,  and 
yet  I  am  not  troubled  about  my  studies.  There  must 
be  something  else  behind  that  you  should  suddenly 
take  such  a  stand  as  this.  We  have  always  been  the 
best  of  friends ;  now  tell  me  what  is  the  real  cause  of 
your  refusal  to  go  with  me?  " 

u  To  tell  you  the  truth,"  replied  Harriet  thoughtfully. 
"my  conscience  disapproves  of  such.  I  can't  honestly 
think  it  is  right." 


THE   CHILD   OF  THE  GANGES.  117 

"  Conscience,  indeed !  "  said  Ann.  "  I  can't  believe  a 
word  of  it.  It  all  comes  from  your  associating  with 
that  young  preacher,  Mr.  Newell.  I  do  wish  you  would 
give  him  up,  Harriet.  Just  think  of  how  much  enjoy- 
ment you  will  be  deprived,  if  married  to  such  a  man. 
I  wouldn't  have  a  preacher  if  he  was  the  only  man  liv- 
ing. Not  that  I  don't  like  them,  but  because  I  should 
bo  expected  to  be  so  good,  and  give  up  so  much  of  what 
is  life  to  me.  I  am  truly  sorry  for  you,  Harriet,  and  I 
do  wish  you  would  reconsider  your  decision,  and  go  in 
spite  of  your  clerical  beau." 

Harriet  had  a  very  sensitive  nature,  and  she  was  cut 
to  the  heart  by  the  light  remarks  of  her  bosom  friend. 
She  made  no  reply,  but  her  eyes  rilled  with  tears  as  she 
looked  at  her  fair  tempter  reproachfully.  Seeing 
which,  Ann  leaped  to  the  ground  and  impulsively 
clasping  the  slender  form  in  her  arms,  kissed  away  the 
tear-drops  and  begged  her  to  think  no  more  of  what 
had  been  said. 

The  school  bell  put  an  end  to  further  conversation, 
and  winding  their  arms  about  each  other's  waist  they 
walked  together  into  the  house. 

We  thus  introduce  to  our  readers  her  whose  name 
shall  ever  be  sacred  to  every  Christian  heart,  Ann  Has- 
seltine,  and  her  bosom  friend  and  school-mate,  Harriet 
Atwood.  Being  the  youngest  daughter,  Ann  had  been 
made  much  of  by  all,  and,  perhaps,  too  freely  indulged 
by  those  who  loved  her  best,  and  who  wished  to  be  first 
in  the  ardent  affections  of  her  heart.  Hitherto, 
thoughts  of  a  serious  nature  had  never  entered  her 
mind.  Naturally  impulsive,  she  threw  her  whole  soul 
into  whatever  she  did,  whether  it  was  to  fashion  play- 


118  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

houses  for  dolls  when  a  child,  solve  intricate  problems 
in  algebra  when  a  school  girl,  or  whirl  in  *,he  giddy 
maze  of  the  dance  when  a  society  belle. 

Mrs.  Hasseltine  had  never  felt  the  power  of  the 
Christian  religion  in  her  own  heart,  and,  as  a  conse- 
quence, was  incapable  of  impressing  upon  her  children 
a  feeling  of  its  true  importance.  Nevertheless,  from  a 
consciousness  of  maternal  responsibility,  she  had 
sought  to  inculcate  into  their  minds  the  moral  code  of 
the  bible  and  the  principles  of  morality.  All  of  which 
had  been  readily  received  by  the  vivacious  child,  but 
laid  as  readily  aside  when  her  short  dresses  were  hung 
in  the  closet,  and  the  calls  of  worldly  pleasure  admon- 
ished her  to  lay  aside  all  such  "childish  thing?  n 

Such  was  the  natural  course  of  her  disposition  What 
will  it  be  when  touched  by  the  spirit  of  God? 

We  shall  see. 


CHAPTER  II. 

"  And  thine  ears  Bhall  hear  a  word  behind  thee,  saying,  This  is  the  way,  walk 
ye  in  it." — Isa.  xxx :  21. 

It  was  a  dark,  stormy  night.  Among  the  pine-clad 
hills  of  New  England  the  wind  sobbed  and  moaned, 
and  dark,  phantom-like  clouds  scudded  across  the  eky 
like  ships  at  sea  without  a  rudder.  How  different 
from  the  calm,  peaceful  nights  in  India,  when  the  wan- 
dering prince  lay  under  the  open  sky  listening  to 
the  soft  tinkle  of  distant  bells,  or  watching  the  lumi- 
nous path  of  the  fire-fly,  while  his  restless  soul  dwelt  in 
the  dark,  distant  future. 

At  the  little  country  tavern,  on  the  road  from  Sheffield, 
they  were  making  preparations  to  retire,  when  a  voice 
was  heard  without;  and,  opening  the  door,  the  landlord 
saw  a  benighted  traveler  alighting  from  his  horse  at 
the  gate.  Having  delivered  his  horse  to  a  boy,  who 
now  appeared,  the  stranger  entered  the  house,  and 
taking  off  his  wraps  which  were  hung  away  by  the 
landlord,  he  seated  himself  by  the  fire  that  roared 
cheerfully  in  the  great  log  fire-place. 

As  revealed  by  the  fire-light,  he  was  young,  almost  a 
boy  in  appearance,  his  form  of  slender  structure,  and 
his  face,  though  delicate,  prepossessing  in  appearance, 
combining  a  look  of  bright  intelligence  with  strength 
of  character,  showing  that  his  spirit,  if  not  his  body, 
was    capable   of   strong   endurance.     His   dress   could 

(119) 


120  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

neither  be  characterized  as  costly  nor  foppish;  yet  it 
was  so  fastidiously  tidy  and  arranged  with  such  a 
studied  neatness  and  sense  of  propriety,  as  to  display 
his  agile  form  to  the  best  advantage. 

The  old  landlord  had  a  Yankee  curiosity  to  know 
who  it  was  so  far  from  home  as  to  be  caught  on  the 
road  in  such  a  night.  So  prefacing  his  remarks  with 
the  hope  that  he  might  not  be  considered  at  all  inquisi- 
tive, he  proceeded  to  besiege  the  young  man  with  such 
a  continual  storm  of  questions  as  could  only  be  thought 
of  by  an  interlocutor  in  a  minstrel  show,  or  a  lawyer 
in  a  criminal  suit. 

The  stranger  seemed  lost  in  abstraction,  and  only 
answered  the  old  man's  questions  at  random  as  he  dried 
his  boots  on  the  hearth,  and  gazed  thoughtfully  into  the 
glowing  embers  underneath  the  logs.  After  dispensing 
with  a  hearty  supper,  however,  he  became  more  talka- 
tive, and  by  bed-time  had  communicated  to  his  host  the 
fact  that  his  name  was  Adouiram  Judson,  a  graduate 
of  Brown  University,  and,  at  that  time,  connected  with 
a  theatrical  company  in  New  York. 

The  old  landlord  was  a  genuine  Puritan  of  the  Ply- 
mouth Eock  type,  and  this  information  gave  him 
occasion  to  vent  his  indignation  against  such  organiza- 
tions as  tended  to  corrupt  the  morals,  and  destroy  the 
better  nature  of  the  jDeople  ;  all  of  which  had  no  seeming 
effect  upon  his  guest.  Young  Judson  was  an  infidel. 
At  length,  feigning  sleep,  but  in  reality,  wishing  to  be 
rid  of  his  unplesant  company,  the  young  man  requested 
to  be  shown  to  his  room ;  and  following  the  light  of  a 
flame  from  a  pine-knot,  he  wTas  led  into  a  dingy  apart- 
ment at  the  rear  of  the  building.     The  host  apologized 


THE   CHILD   OP    THE    GANGES.  121 

for  giving  him  no  better  quarters,  saying  that  a  sick 
man  occupied  the  guest  chamber  which  was  next  door. 
Arranging  everything  as  comfortable  as  possible,  and 
stopping  a  draught  of  cold  wind  which  came  through 
the  broken  pane  of  a  window,  with  the  impromptu 
covering  of  a  pillow,  he  bade  his  guest  good-night  and 
closed  the  door  behind  him,  saying  that  he  must  watch 
all  night  with  the  sick  man. 

On  the  morning  before,  which  was  Sunday,  the  young 
actor  had  stopped  at  Sheffield,  a::d  out  of  respect  to 
his  uncle,  who  was  pastor  of  a  church  there,  he  attended 
services.  But  instead  of  his  uncle,  a  very  pious  young 
man  had  preached  a  most  impressive  sermon  by  which 
he  was  deeply  affected. 

To-night  he  could  not  sleep,  but  lay  tossing  on  his 
pillow  from  side  to  side,  trying  to  clear  his  mind  of 
the  doubts  and  skepticism  long  implanted  there.  The 
blasts  of  wind  howled  mournfully  without,  the  shingles 
rattled  on  the  roof,  and  ever  and  anon  a  groan  would 
come  from  the  sick  room.  The  two  apartments  were 
separated  by  a  single  partition  of  rough  boards,  and 
the  nickering  light  from  within  struggled  through  the 
cobwebs  of  the  cracks  and  made  long,  straw-like  streaks 
across  his  own  bed,  as  if  bringing  him  in  sympathy 
with  a  fellow-sufferer. 

Towards  midnight  it  seemed  that  the  sick  man  was 
becoming  worse,  for  the  groans  became  more  frequent, 
and  occasionally  a  loud  curse  or  blood-curdling  yell 
would  be  mingled  with  the  sobbing  of  the  wind  and 
lain  without.  The  restless  listener  in  the  dark  was 
tormented  beyond  measure  by  these  sounds  which 
seemed  to  come  as  mournful  echoes  to  his  own  heart- 


122  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

cries  within.  As  the  sick  man  grew  worse  the  cracked 
voice  of  the  old  landlord  could  be  heard  reciting  pas- 
sages of  Scripture  or  offering  the  comforts  of  religion, 
which  seemed  rather  to  enrage  than  console  the  poor 
sufferer.  At  length,  after  a  more  severe  outburst  than 
usual,  the  groans  and  curses  ceased,  and  after  a  few 
short  stifled  gasps  all  was  still  and  the  shadows  ceased 
to  flit  along  the  wall. 

The  worn  traveler  now  turned  his  face  and  tried 
again  to  sleep,  but  it  was  not  until  nearly  dawn  that 
he  fell  into  a  restless  slumber. 

Next  morning  at  breakfast  he  enquired  after  the  con- 
dition of  the  sick  man. 

"Dead,"  replied  the  old  man.  "And  such  another 
death  I  pray  God  I  may  never  see.  Without  faith  in 
God,  and  without  hope  in  Christ,  he  has  gone  1o  meet 
his  doom." 

Judson  did  not  relish  such  serious  reflections,  and 
sought  to  change  the  subject  by  asking, 

"  Who  was  the  }7oung  man  and  where  did  he  come 
from?" 

"  Where  he  came  from  when  he  came  here,  I  can't 
tell,"  said  the  landlord.  "  He  staggered  in  here  one 
day,  already  delirious,  and  could  give  no  rational  answer 
to  my  questions.  I  put  him  to  bed  and  when  he  grew 
worse,  I  looked  in  his  pockets  and  found  a  letter 
addressed  to  Mr.  George  Sanders,  of  Brown  University." 

The  young  man's  knife  and  fork  fell  rattling  on  his 
plate,  and  his  hands  dropped  to  hi3  sides  as  if  paralyzed. 

"  What !  "  he  cried,  "  George  Sanders,  my  old  school- 
mate who  graduated  with  me  last  year?  " 

"I  suppose  he  must  be  the  same,"  replied  the  old 
man,  "for  the  letter  was  dated  more  than  a  year  ago, 


THE    CHILD   OF   THE   GANGES.  123 

and  I  judged  it  to  be  from  his  mother.  I  wrote  to  her 
at  once  and  expect  her  here  to-day." 

Mr.  Judson  arose  from  the  table  in  much  agitation. 

"  Show  me  the  room  immediately,"  he  said,  "  I  wish 
to  see  for  myself,  if  it  is  indeed  my  old  friend." 

The  landlord  led  the  way  to  the  chamber,  and  draw- 
ing back  the  sheet  that  shrouded  the  corpse,  disclosed 
the  stark,  distorted  features  of  what  had  been  a  youth 
just  budding  into  manhood. 

"  Poor,  poor  George  !  "  said  Mr.  Judson,  looking  sadly 
upon  the  emaciated  wreck  of  former  days.  "Who 
would  have  thought  a  year  ago  when  you  graduated,  the 
pride  of  your  class,  that  you  would  now  be  lying  thus, 
far  from  home,  with  not  even  a  school-mate  to  soothe 
your  dying  hour  though  under  the  same  roof.  'Tis  sad 
to  think  that  such  a  star  of  promise  should  be  thus 
shrouded  in  darkness.  Nothing  accomplished  in  this 
life.  And  the  next — Alas !  we  both  denied  a  future 
existence.  Your  Past  was  an  opening  rose-bud,  your 
Present  a  withered  flower,  and  your  Future,  for  all  we 
know,  dust  and  ashes.     Shall  I  ever  lie  thus?" 

Then  turning,  he  asked,  "Have  you  made  arrange- 
ments for  his  burial?  " 

"  Not  definitely,"  replied  the  old  man.  "  I  wished 
his  relations  to  come  first  and  suggest  what  to  do." 

"  Then,  here  is  money,"  said  Mr.  Judson,  handing 
him  a  roll  of  bills.  "Bury  him  decently  and  take  the 
remainder  for  your  care  of  him.  With  his  memory  I 
also  bury  my  former  life.  From  this  day  forth  I  will 
strive  for  something  nobler  than  either  of  us  sought 
before." 


124         THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

Turning  from  the  room,  he  ordered  his  horse,  and 
extending  his  hand  to  the  old  landlord,  who  grasped  it 
warmly,  while  tears  of  gratitude  streamed  down  his  fur- 
rowed checks,  he  who  had  entered  the  tavern  an  infi- 
del, rode  away,  a  penitent,  seeking  light. 

Who,  but  an  all-wise  God,  could  have  seen  the  ele- 
ments of  a  great  missionary  in  the  follower  of  a  theatri- 
cal troupe?  Who  but  Jesus  of  Nazareth  would  have 
called  Saul  of  Tarsus  to  bear  the  gospel  to  the  Gentiles? 

"  How  unsearchable  are  his  judgments,  and  his  ways 
past  finding  out  I" 


CHAPTER  III. 

"  Nor  unto  manhood's  heart  alone 
The  holy  influence  steals ; 
Warm  with  a  rapture  not  its  own, 
The  heart  of  woman  feels."  —Whiltier. 

It  was  Sabbath  morning  after  the  ball.  Ann  Hassel- 
tine  was  standing  in  the  parlor  waiting  for  her  father 
to  come  and  go  with  her  to  church.  She  had  risen 
early  that  morning  in  order  to  spend  an  unusual 
amount  of  time  in  the  preparation  of  her  toilet ;  for  she 
realized  that  her  well-clad  figure  had  attracted  special 
attention  at  the  ball;  and,  was  not  she  the  belle  of 
Bradford?  She  surveyed  herself  in  the  large  mirror 
with  evident  satisfaction,  and  indeed,  there  was  no  one 
"who  would  not  have  been  proud  of  the  image  reflected 
there.  Her  new  spring  costume  was  beautifully  made, 
and  fitted  her  handsome  form  with  becoming  grace. 
The  fair,  round  face,  and  twinkling  dark  eyes  were  per- 
fect; and  the  short,  curly  locks  artistically  arranged  to 
show  her  face  to  the  best  advantage. 

The  sound  of  a  bell  was  heard  through  the  open  win- 
dow. Drawing  the  curtains  aside,  she  exclaimed  impa- 
tiently as  she  saw  the  people  passing,  "  I  do  wish  papa 
would  come  on ;  there  is  the  second  bell  now,  and  the 
people  are  all  going  in.  I  wanted  so  much  to  see 
Harriet  before  church  !  " 

Then,  walking  to  the  center-table,  she  began  care- 
lessly turning  over  the  leaves  of  a  book  lying  there. 

(125) 


126  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

It  was  Hannah  Moore's  "  Strictures  on  Female  Educa- 
tion." Suddenly  a  line  italicized  from  the  bible  struck 
her  attention,  "  She  that  liveth  in  pleasure  is  dead 
while  she  liveth.''''  She  read  no  further,  but  stood  with 
her  eyes  riveted  on  the  words,  while  she  made  the 
application  of  the  passage  to  herself.  She  was  so  much 
engrossed  that  she  scarcely  heard  her  father's  voice  as 
he  called  at  the  door,  "  Come  on,  Ann,  I  am  ready." 

Seeing  she  was  too  much  interested  to  hear,  he  spoke 
again  more  sharply,  "  Daughter  !  " 

"  Yes,  papa,"  she  said  quickly,  and  closing  the  book 
as  if  just  remembering  it  was  church  time. 

"  Come  on,  we  are  late  and  must  hurry."  And  with 
cane  in  hand  he  stepped  briskly  into  the  street,  she 
walking  beside  him  in  silence.  It  was  something 
unusual  for  her  not  to  be  chatting  vivaciously  about 
everything  she  saw,  but  her  father  thought  perhaps  she 
was  pouting,  and,  in  his  hurry  to  be  in  time,  gave  her 
no  more  attention. 

The  girls  were  all  arrayed  in  their  best  that  day,  but 
Ann,  for  the  first  time  in  life,  cared  not  if  others 
excelled  her  in  dress.  The  sermon  was  eloquent  and 
full  of  spiritual  teaching,  but  she  heard  it  not.  Even 
Harriet  was  scarcely  noticed  as  they  passed  at  the  door. 
One  single  thought  filled  her  mind  and  distressed  her 
soul:  "She  that  liveth  in  pleasure  is  dead  while  she 
liveth." 

During  the  months  that  followed  she  lost  all  relish 
for  amusements,  and  became  so  awakened  as  to  her 
spiritual  condition  that  she  even  longed  for  annihila- 
tion.    As  formerly,  she  had  given  all  her  attention  to 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  127 

pleasure-seeking,  she  now  turned  all  the  faculties  of 
her  ardent  soul  in  the  quest  of  salvation,  and  ere  long 
she  found  the  peace  for  which  she  had  so  earnestly 
sought.  The  change  in  her  life  was  radical,  from 
extreme  worldliness  to  earnest  piety.  At  school  she 
was  inspired  with  a  new  zeal  in  her  studies ;  not  as 
formerly  with  a  desire  for  human  applause,  but  because 
she  felt  the  responsibility  of  preparing  her  soul  for 
greater  usefulness  in  life.  The  bible  was  now  her  daily 
companion,  and  as  she  pondered  over  its  pages  she  was 
struck  with  the  thought  of  its  applicability  to  all 
classes  and  conditions  of  mankind. 

"  Why,"  thought  she,  "  may  not  the  scriptures  be 
taught  to  the  poor  African  slave  and  to  the  wild  red 
men  of  the  West?  Why  are  these  precious  truths  kept 
so  close  by  our  people  while  others  are  dying  for  the 
want  of  them?  I  wish  I  had  the  power  to  diffuse  the 
Gospel.  I  would  go  anywhere  if  only  I  might  be  per- 
mitted to  lead  others  to  the  light." 

Little  did  she  dream  .of  the  field  soon  to  be  opened  to 
her,  or  the  use  to  which  God  wrould  put  the  knowledge 
she  was  now  so  eagerly  acquiring.  She  continued  her 
bible  study  with  aid  of  the  best  commentators,  prepar- 
ing herself  for  something,  she  knew  not  what. 

After  the  completion  of  her  course  in  the  Academy, 
at  the  earnest  solicitation  of  friends,  she  consented  to 
teach  a  school.  There  she  first  had  an  opportunity  to 
make  application  of  the  plans  she  had  formed  of  evan- 
gelizing others.  Much  to  the  astonishment  of  her 
pupils,  she  opened  every  morning  with  prayer,  and  lost 
no  opportunity  to  lead  their  minds  to  a  higher  life,  as 
well  as  to  instruct  them  in  their  regular  branches. 


128 


THE   CHILD    OP   THE   GANGES. 


How  different  her  life  now  from  the  time  when  we 
first  knew  her  !  The  refining  fires  of  conviction  have 
purged  her  soul  from  all  its  vanity  and  delight  in 
worldly  pleasures,  and  now,  wholly  absorbed  in  making 
others  happy,  she  is  lost  to  self,  and  yet  enjoys  con- 
tinual peace. 

The  Lord  hath  chosen  her  for  his  own  use,  and  is 
shaping  her  character  and  developing  her  faculties  in 
such  a  way  that  she  may  be  best  able  to  perform  the 
great  life-work  whereunto  he  hath  called  her. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

*•  Not  always  as  the  whirlwind's  rush 

On  Horeb's  mount  of  tear, 
Not  always  as  the  burning  bush 

To  Midian's  shepherd  seer, 
Nor  as  the  awful  voice  which  came 

To  Israel's  prophet  bards, 
Nor  as  the  tongues  of  cloven  flame, 

Nor  gift  of  fearful  words— 

Not  always  thus,  with  outward  sign 

Of  fire  or  voice  from  Heaven, 
The  message  of  a  truth  divine— 

The  call  of  God  is  given  1 "—  Whittier. 

After  the  scene  at  the  tavern  Mr.  Judson,  true  to  his 
promise,  retired  from  the  life  on  which  he  had  entered, 
and  returned  home  deeply  convicted.  At  the  earnest 
solicitation  of  two  of  the  professors  in  Andover  Semi- 
nary, he  placed  himself  under  the  instruction  of  that 
institution.  The  laws  of  the  Seminary  demanded  evi- 
dence of  strict  evangelical  piety  as  a  conditi  n  of 
matriculation ;  but  as  he  could,  as  yet,  claim  no  satis- 
factory hope  in  Christ,  he  was  enrolled  as  a  special 
student  His  new  religiou3  surroundings  gradually 
wrought  a  wonderful  change  in  his  nature,  and  soon 
light  from  the  Cross  dawned  upon  his  spiritual  vision, 
and  he  was  enabled  to  accept  the  sacrifice  of  Christ  for 
the  atonement  of  his  sins. 

Once  more  the  finger  of  God  is  seen  moving  myste- 
riously among  the  pages  of  our  history. 

The  Rev.  Claudius  Buchanan,  an  ambitious  church- 
man, had  visited  Calcutta  from  England,  and  seeing 
9  (129) 


130  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

the  efforts  of  the  "  poor  mechanics  "  Carey,  Marshman, 
and  Ward,  as  they  were  struggling  to  diffuse  the  light 
of  the  gospel,  he  wrote  to  a  friend  in  England  expressing 
himself  slightingly  in  regard  to  the  infant  enterprise. 
But  when  further  developments  wore  made,  difficulties 
removed,  and  the  standard  of  truth  permanently  planted 
on  Indian  soil,  he  conceived  a  more  favorable  opinion 
of  their  labors,  which  led  him,  on  his  return  to  Eng- 
land, to  preach  in  Bristol  a  sermon,  entitled  "  The  Star 
in  the  East."  The  sermon  was  printed  in  book  form, 
and  a  copy  found  its  way  across  the  waters,  and  by 
some  mysterious  way  into  the  hands  of  the  young  student 
at  Andover  Seminary. 

Though  coming  from  a  strange  and  distant  source,  it- 
was  the  message  of  God  to  him,  borne  on  the  wings  of 
poor  Mekara's  prayer  from  the  Himalayan  crags. 
Quisker  and  more  forcible  than  the  electric  current 
that  bears  man's  thought  through  the  caverns  of  the 
ocean,  is  that  unseen,  powerful  medium,  the  Spirit  of 
God.  Though  its  poles  be  separated  as  far  as  India 
from  Massachusetts,  yet  its  pulsations  thrill  the  brain 
and  throb  in  the  heart  so  perceptibly  that  there  can  be 
no  doubt  as  to  their  reality ;  though,  for  the  time,  we 
may  not  know  whence  they  come  nor  whither  they  go. 

The  little  book  fulfilled  its  mission,  and  Mr.  Judson 
determined  to  go  to  the  rescue  of  the  heathen  who  were 
wandering  in  darkness  waiting  for  the  dawn  to  appear. 

At  that  time  there  was  not  a  single  missionary  organ- 
ization in  America,  and  he  was  left  without  any  one  to 
consult,  and  with  no  hope  of  financial  aid.  At  length 
Samuel  Nott,  a  member  of  his  own  class,  was  found  to 
be  interested  in  the  same  subject,  and  together  they 
decided  to  adopt  Asia  as  the  field  of  their  life-work. 


THE   CHILD    OF   THE   GANGES. 


131 


Several  other  young  men  soon  entered  the  Seminary 
who  were  also  interested  in  missions,  but  whose  atten- 
tion had  been  mostly  directed  to  the  North  American 
Indians.  One  by  one  they  were  finally  convinced  by 
the  earnest  speeches  of  Judson  and  Nott  that  Asia  was 
the  field  most  demanding  their  labors. 

The  General  Assembly  of  the  Congregational  Church, 
of  which  they  all  were  members,  was  to  convene  at 
Bradford  in  June.  They  drew  up  a  petition  to  be  laid 
before  this  body,  begging  to  be  sent  under  its  auspices 
as  missionaries  to  Burmah. 


CHAPTER  V. 

*'  Go !  thou  messenger  of  Heaven, 
Bound  for  Asia's  burning  shore, 
Tell  oi  sins  by  blood  forgiven, 
Take  the  heaven-sent  message  o'er ; 
Some  will  listen ; 
Tell  the  tidings  o'er  and  o'er."— Anon. 

All  Bradford  was  alive  with  bustle  and  excitement, 
preparing  for  the  meeting  of  the  Assembly.  Mr.  Has- 
seltine  and  family,  being  among  the  most  prominent 
members  of  the  Congregational  church,  were  expecting 
to  entertain  many  of  the  visitors  who  should  attend. 
No  pains  were  spared  to  have  homes  and  church  in 
order,  for  such  an  occasion  was  rare  at  a  small  place 
like  Bradford. 

During  his  winter  vacation,  before  the  Association 
convened,  Mr.  Judson  returned  home  on  a  short  visit  to 
his  parents.  As  yet  he  had  not  had  the  heart  to  tell 
them  of  his  intentions  in  regard  to  his  future  field  of 
labor.  His  father,  justly  proud  of  his  son  for  his  mental 
attainments,  was  overjoyed  at  the  prospect  of  his  becom- 
ing a  great  minister.  One  evening  while  the  family 
was  seated  around  the  fireside  engaged  in  a  pleasant 
conversation,  the  old  man,  who  had  just  received  his 
mail,  looked  up  from  a  letter  he  was  reading,  and  with 
a  look  of  paternal  pride  beaming  from  his  eyes,  said : 
"  Listen  here,  Adoniram ;  here  is  a  letter  from  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Griffin,  who  proposes  to  make  you  his  colleague  in 

(132) 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  133 

the  largest  church  in  Boston !  A  splendid  beginning, 
I  must  say,  for  a  young  man  just  through  the  Semi- 
nary." 

"  And  think,  how  near  home  you  will  be,  too,"  added 
his  mother. 

The  young  man's  heart  was  breaking  as  he  listened 
to  the  plans  they  were  dotingly  arranging  for  him,  and 
he  could  not  bear  io  break  to  them  the  great  dream  of 
his  life.  His  sister,  sitting  near  him,  also  made  a 
remark  as  to  the  pleasant  arrangement  it  would  be  to 
have  work  so  near  home.  Turning  to  her  he  ventured 
to  reply. 

"No,  sister,  I  shall  never  live  in  Boston.  I  have 
much  farther  than  that  to  go." 

"Why,  brother,  what  do  you  mean?  "  she  cried. 

"  I  am  going  as  a  missionary." 

11  What's  that,  Adoniram?  "  hastily  asked  his  father, 
who  had  overheard  the  last  word  of  the  conversation. 

"  I  have  decided  to  begin  my  life  work  in  Burmah," 
replied  Adoniram.  He  then  proceeded  to  lay  before 
them  the  workings  of  the  Spirit  with  him,  how  his 
life  had  been  saved  from  ruin  by  the  hand  of  Provi- 
dence, how  the  little  book  had  fallen  into  his  hands, 
and  the  lasting  impressions  made  upon  him  to  bear  the 
light  to  those  who  sat  in  darkness,  and  in  the  shadow 
of  death.  His  father  saw  the  wisdom  of  his  choice, 
and  though  deeply  grieved  and  disappointed,  offered 
no  opposition.  His  mother  and  sister  remonstrated 
with  him  earnestly,  and  besought  him,  for  their  sake, 
to  revoke  his  decision.  But  finding  he  was  not  to  be 
deterred  from  his  purpose,  they  burst  into  tears.  He 
thus  witnessed  the  first  hardship  that  a  missionary  ia 
called  upon  to  endure. 


131  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

The  eventful  day  of  the  Assembly  at  length  arrived. 
The  great  men  and  women  of  the  land  and  dignitaries 
of  the  church  were  seated  together  in  Council.  Before 
this  august  body  the  petition  of  the  Andover  students 
was  read.  Being  entirely  different  from  anything  that 
had  ever  appeared  before,  and  advocating  a  measure 
which,  till  now,  had  never  occurred  to  the  religious 
mind  of  America,  it  created  quite  a  sensation,  and 
met  with  considerable  opposition.  But  the  young 
applicants  were  not  to  be  lightly  put  aside,  and  they 
followed  in  earnest  speeches  in  answer  to  the  opposi- 
tions that  were  brought  up ;  especially  did  the  eloquent, 
soul-stirring  appeal  of  Mr.  JTudson  carry  with  it  weight 
and  conviction.  After  a  warm  discussion,  however,  the 
request  was  granted,  and  the  young  men  appointed 
missionaries  to  Burmah,  and  a  board  appointed  to 
arrange  for  their  support. 

Through  the  personal  instrumentality  of  Mr.  Judson 
they  had  been  appointed  by  the  London  Missionary 
Society  in  the  event  they  should  fail  in  America.  They 
now  withdrew  themselves  from  its  patronage,  and  made 
preparations  to  go  entirely  under  the  direction  of  the 
Board  appointed. 

After  the  meeting  adjourned — was  it  an  accident  or 
Providential? — the  young  ministers  were  assigned  to 
Mr.  Hasseltine's  for  dinner.  They  were  received  with 
genuine,  old-fashioned  hospitality,  and  made  to  feel 
perfectly  at  home;  which  is  the  height  of  bliss  to  a 
student,  whether  he  be  a  preacher  or  not. 

Mrs.  Hasseltine,  with  matronly  grace,  presided  at 
the  head  of  the  table,  her  older  children  near;  and 
Mr.  Hasseltine   sat  with  the   young  ministers  at  the 


THE  CHILD    0#    THE   GANGES.  135 

other  end.  Ann,  who  was  the  youngest  daughter,  waited 
on  the  table.  Her  heart  had  been  wonderfully  stirred 
that  day  as  she  listened  eagerly  to  the  speeches  of  the 
young  men  in  regard  to  the  great  question  which  they 
had  advanced.  Especially  was  she  impressed  by  the 
address  of  Mr.  Judson  as  he  painted,  in  living  colors, 
the  condition  of  the  heathen.  All  the  impulses  of  her 
nature  were  aroused,  and  she  felt  that  she  would  be 
willing  to  make  any  sacrifice  if  only  she  might  be 
permitted  to  go  to  their  rescue.  As  she  moved  grace- 
fully about  the  table,  she  gave  silent  and  strict  atten- 
tion to  every  word  that  was  said  on  the  important  sub- 
ject, her  eyes  often  resting  with  interest  on  Mr.  Judson, 
by  whose  neat  person  she  was  attracted,  not  less  than 
by  his  becoming  address,  and  earnest,  consecrated  zeal. 
Little  did  she  dream  that  he,  fully  conscious  of  her 
bewitching  charms,  was  composing,  in  the  bottom  of 
his  plate,  his  first  love  verses  in  her  praise. 

That  evening,  when  assembled  in  the  parlor,  they 
were  thrown  together,  and  after  an  hour  of  delightful 
conversation  they  were  impressed  with  their  mutual 
fitness  for  each  other. 

He  escorted  her  to  church  that  night,  and,  ere  the 
meetings  of  the  Assembly  had  closed,  he  was  convinced 
that  she  was  the  one  whom  the  Lord  had  provided  as 
an  helpmeet  to  him.  During  the  two  years  that  inter- 
vened before  his  departure  to  Asia,  he  won  her  hand, 
as  he  had  her  heart  at  their  first  meeting. 

Love  at  first  sight  is  not  often  deep,  or  of  the  purest 
type ;  but  where  two  kindred  natures  have  thus  been 
prepared  for  each  other,  mutual  recognition  comes  soon 
find  strong.      They  loved  solely  from  principle.     She 


136  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

did  not  love  him  for  the  dangers  through  which  he 
should  pass ;  neither  did  he  love  her  because  she  did 
pity  them. 

In  this,  as  in  everything  else,  Ann  took  into  her  con- 
fidence her  bosom  friend  Harriet,  and  endeavored  to 
persuade  her  to  go  with  them,  no  longer  objecting  to 
her  "  clerical  beau,"  Mr.  Newell,  but  urging  her  to  con- 
sent to  marry  him  as  he,  too,  was  contemplating  the 
step  and  only  hesitated  on  her  account.  "  Only  think, 
Harriet,"  she  said,  "  I  shall  be  all  alone,  not  another 
white  female  in  the  whole  country.  We  have  always 
loved  each  other  and  been  together ;  it  will  be  hard  for 
us  to  part.  There  we  can  both  assist  our  husbands 
and  do  some  little  good  in  holding  up  their  hands, 
besides  being  a  mutual  solace  to  each  other.' 

Harriet's  gentle  nature  soon  yielded  to  the  entreaties 
of  her  more  adventurous  friend,  and  together  they 
made  preparations  for  the  sad  departure. 

Girls  of  this  day,  even  those  who  accompany  their 
husbands  to  foreign  fields,  cannot  appreciate  the  sorrows 
of  these  two  at  leaving  home.  The  facilities  of  travel 
were  so  few,  and  a  long  voyage  accompanied  by  so 
many  dangers  and  delays,  that  the  departing  mission- 
ary could  scarcely  hope  to  see  home  again.  The  enter- 
prise was  new,  and  met  with  disfavor  with  the  majority  ; 
and  the  country  to  which  they  were  going  was  unex- 
plored, not  even  the  sword  of  the  white  man  having 
found  its  way  thither.  Old  people  considered  it  a  mad 
freak,  and  their  girl  friends  thought  it  a  ridiculous 
wedding  tour. 

The  grief  of  the  families  is  too  sacred  to  be  revealed, 
even  at  this  late   day.     No    rash  promises  had  been 


THE   CHILD   OF   THE   GANGES.  137 

made  to  win  their  daughters  from  them.  When  called 
upon  to  consent  to  his  daughter's  marriage,  Mr.  Has- 
seltine  received  a  letter  from  Mr.  Judson  containing 
the  following : 

11 1  have  now  to  ask  whether  you  can  consent  to  part  with 
your  daughter  early  next  Spring,  to  see  her  no  more  in  this 
world  ;  whether  you  can  consent  to  her  departure  to  a  heathen 
land,  and  her  subjection  to  the  hardships  and  sufferings  of  a 
missionary  life ;  whether  you  can  consent  to  her  exposure  to 
the  dangers  of  the  ocean  ;  to  the  fatal  influence  of  the  south- 
ern climate  of  India  ;  to  every  kind  of  want  and  distress  ;  to 
degradation,  insult,  persecution,  and  perhaps,  a  violent  death? 
Can  you  consent  to  all  this  for  the  sake  of  Him  who  left  his 
heavenly  home  and  died  for  her  and  for  you  ;  for  the  sake  of 
perishing  immortal  souls  ;  for  the  sake  of  Zion  and  the  glory 
of  God  ?  Can  you  consent  to  all  this  in  hope  of  soon  meeting 
your  daughter  in  the  world  of  glory,  with  a  crown  of  right- 
eousness, brightened  by  the  acclamations  of  praise  which  shall 
redound  to  her  Saviour  from  heathens  saved,  through  her 
means,  from  eternal  woe  and  despair  ?  " 

Both  Harriet  and  Ann  were  warned  of  their  hard- 
ships, and  anticipated  a  life  of  danger  and  suffering, 
yet  of  joy,  because  accounted  worthy  to  suffer  for  the 
Master's  name.  They  spent  the  last  days  of  their 
maidenhood  in  visiting  the  scenes  made  dear  to  them 
by  the  associations  of  the  Past.  They  went  again  to 
the  old  church,  and  knelt  in  prayer  at  the  sacred  altar 
where  the  peace  of  God  had  come  to  them ;  then  to  the 
school-house,  over  whose  familiar  desks  they  had  bent 
their  youthful  heads  in  study,  and  on  whose  play- 
ground they  had  so  often  skipped  the  rope  in  childish 
glee ;  to  the  river  where  they  had  often  wandered  at 
evening,  and  on  whose  grassy  border  we  leave  them, 
Harriet  and  Ann,  dreaming  of  the  Past  so  sweet,  and 
talking  of  the  Future  so  dark. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


1  Uprising  from  the  orange  leaves 
The  tall  pagoda's  turrets  glow ; 
O'er  graceful  shaft  and  tretted  eaves 
Its  verdant  web  the  myrtle  weaves, 
And  hangs  in  flowing  wreaths  below ; 
And  where  the  cluster'd  palms  eclipse 
The  moonbeams  from  its  marble  lips 
The  fountain's  silver  waters  flow.'"- 


—  Whittier. 


After  having  been  led  through  strange  events  in  dis- 
tant lands,  the  reader's  attention  is  directed  again  to 
Burmah,  the  land  of  The  Golden  Face.  No  country  is 
fairer;  yet,  till  the  present  century,  the , great  "world 
was  unconscious  of  its  existence.  Here  fled  the  adhe- 
rents of  Gautama,  when  expelled  from  their  native 
land,  and  established  the  religion  of  Buddha.  Every 
sunny  slope  is  crowned  by  an  image  of  Gautama;  every 
flowery  glade  and  every  gloomy  cavern  conceals  a 
representative  of  the  pensive  god.  Scarcely,  through- 
out its  whole  extent,  is  there  a  spot  where  the  pagoda  is 
not  seen. 

Prince  Gautama  sought  to  reform  Brahminism.  For 
this  cause  he  left  his  beautiful  palace  and  the  embrace 
of  his  lovely  wife,  to  live  an  ascetic  on  the  mountains- 
When  light  came  to  him  under  the  bo-tree,  revealing 
the  causes  of  human  sorrow  and  the  remedy,  he  pro- 
claimed to  the  world  a  religion  whose  pure  creed  has 
never  been  equaled  by  human  philosophy ;  approach- 
ing so  near  the  truth,  yet  a  temple  founded  upon  the 

(138) 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  139 

sands  of  human  deeds,  ignoring  the  "  Rock  of  Ages  " 
standing  so  near. 

"  There  are  no  gods  who  hear  prayers,"  says  Gautama, 
who  now  became  Buddha,  "  consequently  your  salvation 
depends,  not  upon  worship,  but  upon  the  obtaining  of 
merit  by  doing  good  deeds.  These  commands  obey  and 
sin  shall  be  removed : 

'Do  not  kill  : 

'Do  not  steal: 

'Do  not  lie  : 

'Do  NOT  commit  adultery  : 

'DO  NOT  DRINK  INTOXICATING  LIQUORS.' 

"  By  a  strict  adherence  to  those,  the  soul,  instead  of 
transmigrating,  will  be  permanently  freed  from  the 
shackles  of  the  flesh  and  enter  Nirvana,  the  abode  of 
sweet  forgetfulness,  of  '  ceaseless,  stirless  rest.'  Cere- 
monies and  prayers  effect  nothing.  Only  live  true  to 
these  principles  of  Morality." 

The  Buddha  passed  into  Nirvana.  His  followers 
were  left  without  a  leader.  Then  the  former  cravings 
of  the  soul  for  something  Supernatural  became  too 
strong  for  the  simple  moral  principles;  and  making 
unto  themselves  idols  in  his  image,  they  worshiped 
them  with  prostrate  bodies  and  offerings  of  fruit  and 
flowers.  The  most  costly  and  most  sacred  pagodas  are 
believed  to  contain  some  relic  of  Buddha,  such  as  a 
tooth,  a  hair,  or  even  a  nail  from  his  body.  All  devo- 
tions are  mechanical;  all  prayers  without  faith.  No 
human  cry  of  wretchedness  or  misery  can  arouse  the 
senseless  repose  of  Buddha.  He  sleeps,  silently  sleeps 
forever ;  and  all  they  can  hope  is  annihilation  at  the 
end,  when  the  restless  soul  ceases  to  wander  from  being 
to  being,  man  or  beast. 


140  THE  CHILD  OP  THE  GANGES. 

Such  is  the  religion  of  Burmah ;  and  the  despised 
Karens  dare  not  to  speak  the  name  of  YUWAH  outside 
their  solitary  homes  in  the  mountain  glens.  All  hope 
of  future  reward  being  based  on  meritorious  perform- 
ances, the  Burmese  excel  in  hospitality;  but  kindness 
is  always  shown,  not  for  the  good  of  the  recipient,  but 
for  the  personal  advantage  of  the  dispenser.  Conse- 
quently gratitude  is  unknown ;  for  he  who  receives  a 
favor  recognizes  that  his  benefactor  is  only  acting 
through  selfish  motives.  This  renders  them  the  most 
haughty  and  arrogant  of  any  nation  living.  He  who 
would  imbibe  a  new  religion  would  be  subject  to  the 
ridicule  a::d  disdain  of  the  people,  besides  the  implac- 
able displeasure  of  the  king. 

Rangoon,  the  chief  sea-port  of  the  country,  is  a  low, 
marshy  place,  composed  of  dingy  bamboo  huts;  and 
brick  or  mud  residences  for  the  higher  classes.  The 
traveler,  entering  the  mouth  of  the  famous  Irrawaddy, 
and  confronted  with  this  wretched  landing-place,  can 
scarcely  believe  the  stories  he  has  heard  of  the  lovely 
fields  beyond,  to  which  it  is  the  door. 

Under  the  direction  of  the  Serampore  Mission,  Felix 
Carey  had  once  come  here  to  establish  a  mission.  A 
spacious  house  was  built  as  headquarters  and  the  work 
begun.  But  again  the  restless  desire  for  wandering,  to 
which  he  had  long  been  addicted,  took  possession  of 
him.  He  married  a  native,  and,  moving  to  Ava, 
accepted  the  office  of  embassador  for  the  English,  leav- 
ing the  great  mission  house  deserted  as  if  the  emissa- 
ries of  the  cross  had  besieged  the  citadel  of  the  coun- 
try and  then  left  their  weapons  and  armor  in  despair. 
The  building  was  situated  just  without  the  walls  of  the 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  141 

city,  and  there,  in  unbroken  solitude,  a  native  Chris- 
tian, a  female,  took  up  her  abode,  fearing  to  be  seen  in 
the  city  after  having  renounced  the  national  religion. 
Hers  was  a  soul  that  had  been  born  again  through  the 
teachings  of  young  Carey,  and  then  left  as  a  helpless 
babe,  famishing  and  dying  for  the  bread  of  life. 

One  July  morning  she  heard  a  great  uproar  in  the 
city,  and  on  looking  out,  saw  almost  the  whole  popula- 
tion of  the  town  on  their  way  to  the  beach  where  a 
foreign  ship  had  just  landed.  On  board  appeared,  what 
was  to  them,  a  novel  spectacle.  A  white  couple,  man 
and  woman,  of  youthful  appearance,  stood  on  deck. 
It  was  Adoniram  Judson  with  Ann,  his  trusting  bride. 
Looking  around  we  see  no  traces  of  Harriet,  Mr.  Newell, 
and  the  others  who  were  appointed  to  come  with  them. 
These  two  are  alone,  and  both  their  faces  are  sad, 
though  full  of  hope  and  trust.  A  large  chair  was 
brought  out,  in  which  Ann  was  seated ;  then  two  bam- 
boo poles  were  thrust  between  the  rounds,  and  four 
natives  marched  away  with  it  on  their  shoulders,  Mr. 
Judson  walking  beside  them,  and  the  eager  crowd  fol- 
lowing behind.  Reaching  a  tamarind  tree  by  the  way- 
side the  bearers  placed  the  chair  on  the  ground  that 
she  might  rest  a  moment  under  the  shade.  This  gav 
the  multitude  an  opportunity  to  obtain  a  nearer  view 
of  the  object  of  their  curiosity.  Crowding  up,  they 
stood  in  a  circle  around  the  chair,  gazing  with  awe 
upon  its  pale  occupant.  She  was  tired  from  her  long 
voyage,  and  sat  with  her  head  resting  wearily  on  her 
hand,  her  face  hidden  by  a  large  sun-bonnet.  Some, 
desirous  of  seeing  her  countenance,  crept  timidly  near, 
and,  stooping,  peered  under  her  bonnet.     Seeing  their 


142         THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

curiosity  her  former  mischievous  spirit  returned,  and 
forgetting  for  a  moment  her  recent  sorrows,  she  smiled 
at  their  inquisitiveness,  at  which  they  all  fell  back 
with  the  crowd,  laughing  loudly.  The  bearers  again 
took  up  their  burden  and  moved  on  amidst  the  shouts 
of  the  multitude.  They  went  first  to  the  custom-house. 
The  native  officers  were  seated  on  mats  on  the  floor  of 
the  veranda.  Rising,  they  proceeded  to  search  Mr.  Jud- 
son,  but  asked  permission  that  a  female  should  perform 
the  same  office  for  his  wife.  This  done,  they  repaired 
immediately  to  the  mission-house  without  the  city,  and 
dispatched  the  bearers  again  for  their  baggage.  The 
solitary  inmate  at  the  mission  received  them  joyfully, 
and,  though  unable  to  communicate  with  them,  did  all 
in  her  power  to  make  them  comfortable. 

The  baggage  having  come,  they  set  about  furnishing 
their  new  quarters.  Hammocks  were  suspended  from 
hooks  in  the  wall ;  a  table  constructed  near  a  window 
for  Mr.  Judson's  books,  and  their  various  souvenirs, 
gifts  from  friends  at  home,  arranged  around  the  room, 
in  the  center  of  which  stood  the  comfortable  rocking- 
chair  presented  by  Mrs.  Hasseltine  on  the  day  of  their 
marriage,  Ann  showed  herself  an  able  and  tasty,  as 
well  as  cheerful,  housekeeper,  and  by  nightfall  she  had 
the  satisfaction  of  seeing  her  home  furnished  as  elabo- 
rately as  any  in  the  city. 

Till  now  their  work  had  restrained  their  thoughts 
from  wandering  back  to  the  scenes  of  the  past.  But 
when  night  came  on  they  sat  out  on  the  veranda  over- 
looking the  river,  and  feasted  their  eyes  on  the  scenery 
of  a  night  in  a  strange  country.  A  youthful  pair  just 
beginning  their  wedded  life,  neither  could  hope  to  be 


THE    CHILD    OF   THE   GANGES.  143 

again  received  under  the  parental  roof.  The  happy 
evenings  spent  in  the  family  circle,  around  the  fireside 
of  their  New  England  homes,  could  only  be  remem- 
bered as  of  the  past.  They  have  no  firesides  here ;  no 
winter ;  no  family  circle ;  even  their  companions  in  the 
mission  were  absent,  and  Harriet — Oh,  where  was  Har- 
riet? Silently  they  sit,  hand  in  hand,  thinking.  The 
great  ship  in  the  harbor  moves,  and  like  a  spectre, 
glides  from  the  wharf  down  the  stream,  bearing  away 
with  itself  every  sign  of  civilization.  They  were  left 
alone,  these  two,  to  struggle  in  the  darkness,  against 
the  mighty  tide  of  ignorance  and  superstition  surround- 
ing them.  Sorrow,  such  as  the  reader  cannot  as  yet 
comprehend,  overwhelmed  them.  Tears  fell  on  their 
clasped  hands  as  they  sat  together.  Yet  was  there  no 
regret  for  the  choice  they  had  made.  They  had  all 
faith  and  confidence  in  God,  but  no  matter  how  strong 
the  believer's  hope,  there  are  times  when  the  natural 
tears  unbidden  flow.  They  knelt  in  prayer,  then  she 
went  into  the  room,  and  sitting  down  at  her  desk,  wrote 
a  long,  trustful  letter  to  her  sister  at  home.  Mr.  Judson 
sat  without  in  the  darkness,  pondering  the  great  field 
of  his  life  work,  and  praying  for  guidance  as  to  the 
best  means  of  accomplishing  it. 

Only  two  against  millions,  yet  we  have  the  promise, 
"One  shall  chase  a  thousand,  and  two  shall  put  ten 
thousand  to  flight/' 


CHAPTER  VII. 


"  Turn,  then,  my  heart— thy  home  is  here, 
No  other  now  remains  for  thee  :— 
The  smile  of  love,  and  friendship's  tear, 
Ihe  tones  that  melted  on  thine  ear, 

The  mutual  thrill  of  sympathy. 
The  welcome  of  the  household  hand, 
The  pressure  of  the  lip  and  hand, 

Thou  mayst  not  hear,  nor  feel,  nor  see." 


Wfdltier. 


Many  and  varied  had  been  the  events  of  that  eight- 
een month's  voyage,  which  separated  the  missionaries 
from  their  homes.  Ann  and  Harriet  had  embarked 
with  their  hnsbands,  shortly  after  their  marriage,  for 
Calcutta,  the  remainder  of  the  party  having  preceded 
them  in  another  vessel.  Deeply  consecrated,  indeed, 
must  be  the  youthful  heart  that  can  bravely  turn  from 
the  ties  of  home  and  all  congenial  associations;  from  a 
brilliant  prospect  of  future  usefulness  and  popularity  in 
his  native  country ;  and  penetrate  the  thick  darkness  of 
an  unknown  heathen  land.  Now  launched  on  the 
treacherous  deep,  as  the  last  faint  outline  of  their  famil- 
iar landscape  faded  from  view,  they  each  realized  that 
they  had  renounced  all  for  the  sake  of  the  Kingdom  of 
Christ.  But  the  long  months  that  were  to  intervene 
before  their  arrival  in  India  were  not  to  be  spent  in 
pensive  dreaming,  nor  idle  repining.  The  time  was  em- 
braced as  an  excellent  opportunity  for  preparation  for 
the  great  work  which  they  were  soon  to  begin.  Sep- 
arated from  the  world  and  its  conflicts,  with  only  the 

(144) 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  145 

ocean  about  them,  and  its  Maker  and  Ruler  above  them, 
they  had  sweet  intercourse  with  God.  They  also  held 
services  in  which  they  preached  to  the  passengers  and 
crew.  But  the  greater  portion  of  the  time  was  spent  in 
study.  But  they  acquainted  them  selves  with  the  country 
to  which  they  were  going,  its  peoples,  languages  and 
customs,  as  much  as  they  were  able.  They  also  studied 
works  on  Theology;  and  Mr.  Judson  engaged  in  the 
translation  of  the  New  Testament  out  of  the  Greek  into 
English. 

They  safely  crossed  the  Equator,  though  they  were  al- 
most suffocated  by  the  intense  heat.  On  rounding  the 
Cape  of  Good  Hope  they  encountered  rough  weather 
for  twenty  days,  after  which  they  were  anxious  to  see 
land  of  any  description,  anything  to  relieve  the  feeling 
of  the  unstable,  rolling,  waves.  After  nearly  four  months 
they  heard  the  thrilling  cry:  "Land  ahead!"  To  the 
eager,  storm-worn,  passengers  the  distant  blue-summits 
of  Golconda  awoke  emotions  equaled  only  by  a  view 
from  the  heights  of  "The  Delectable  Mountains."  They 
sailed  for  several  days  in  sight  of  the  land,  sometimes 
near  enough  to  distinguish  the  delightful  groves  of 
orange  and  palm  trees.  They  now  make  their  way  among 
the  spicy  islands  that  cluster  about  the  mouth  of  the 
Ganges,  and  enter  the  Hoogly.  The  air  is  fragrant  be- 
yond description  with  the  perfume  of  flowers.  Either 
shore  was  covered  with  clumps  of  the  wonderful  mango, 
and  other  trees,  which  sheltered  the  innumerable  cot- 
tages that  clustered  like  hay-stacks  beneath  them. 

Mr.  Judson  and  Mr.  Newell  were  detained  for  some 
time  in  Calcutta  in  an  unsuccessful  effort  to  obtain  per- 
mission from  the  English  officials  to  settle  in  India,  the 
10 


146        THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

East  India  Company  being  violently  opposed  to  the 
evangelization  of  the  natives.  They  then  accepted  an 
invitation  from  Mr.  Carey  at  Serampore,  to  which  place 
Harriet  and  Ann  were  borne  at  a  rapid  gait  in  a  palan- 
quin. No  ladies  were  to  be  seen  in  the  streets,  and  the 
natives  thronged  them  in  annoying  crowds. 

The  venerable  Dr.  Carey  met  them  with  great  joy, 
and  conducted  them  at  once  to  his  home.  In  this 
delightful  retreat  they  fonnd  opportunity  to  regain  their 
strength,  and  to  acquire  a  better  understanding  of  the 
work  of  the  missionaries.  The  latter  never  alluded  to 
the  denominational  differences  between  themselves  and 
the  new  comers,  but  treated  them  with  the  greatest 
respect  and  hospitality. 

The  native  Christians  were  much  interested  in  the 
new  missionaries,  and  as  soon  as  it  was  known  where 
they  were  going,  a  female,  differing  in  some  respects 
from  the  natives,  found  her  way  to  the  presence  of  the 
ladies,  and  in  broken  English  made  known  her  name. 

It  was  Mahdri. 

She  told  the  story  of  her  past  life  in  the  court,  their 
wanderings  in  search  of  God,  and  the  loss  of  husband 
and  child,  reproving  herself  often,  and  bitterly,  as  an  in- 
fanticide. She  besought  them  to  use  every  means  to 
enlighten  her  benighted  countrymen,  and  to  soften  the 
king's  heart;  saying  that  she  herself  hoped  to  return, 
when  better  qualified,  as  a  teacher. 

This  pleasant  sojourn  at  the  mission  was  not  to  last 
long.  The  East  India  Company  looked  with  distrust 
upon  all  such  enterprises  as  would  tend  to  draw  from 
themselves  the  favor  of  the  down-trodden  people.  Af- 
ter  ten   days  Mr.  Judson  and  Mr.  Newell  were  sum- 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  147 

moned  to  Calcutta,  where  an  order  was  read  to  them  to 
depart  at  once  from  their  territories.  Sending  for  their 
wives  they  prepared  to  embark  on  a  vessel  bound  for 
the  Isle  of  France;  but  when  ready  to  start,  it  was  found 
that  the  ship  could  accomodate  only  two.  Harriet's 
health  was  so  delicate  that  it  was  necessary  for  her  to  be 
removed  from  the  hurry  of  the  city,  and  the  perplexities 
of  delays.  Consequently  it  was  arranged  for  her  and 
Mr.  Newell  to  go  first,  the  others  to  follow  at  the  first 
opportunity. 

While  waiting  for  another  ship  to  sail  for  the  Isle  ol 
France,  the  Judsons  accepted  the  hospitality  of  some 
resident  Christians,  in  whose  house  they  remained  for 
three  months,  closely  watched  by  the  English  officials. 
Mr.  Judson  found  some  theological  works  in  his  cham- 
ber, and  began  their  study  during  his  delay.     Ann,  now 
left  without  a  female  companion,  also  took  up  the  read- 
ing  for   pastime.     The    works  contained  a  treatise  on 
baptism,   which    subject  had  of  late  greatly  disturbed 
Mr.  Judson's  mind.     Ann  was  at  first  alarmed  at  his 
unsettled  state,  and  warned  him  of  the  unpleasant  con- 
sequences of  a  change  of  church  relations  at  that  time. 
But  he  could  not  rest  till  he  had  decided  the  matter. 
So  she  united  with  him  in  the  investigation  of  the  sub- 
ject which   led   to    their   adopting   the  Baptist   faith. 
Although  realizing  that  they   were   forever    separating 
themselves   from   the   auspices  and  sympathies  of  the 
Board  which  was  organized  for  their  support,  and  call- 
ing down  upon  themselves  the  censure  of  their  dearest 
friends,    they   recived    baptism.      Humanly   speaking, 
they  had  nothing  to  gain,  and  all  to  lose.     The  Baptists 
of  America  were  a  weak  body,  and  inactive  as  to  mis- 


148  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

sions.  It  may  have  been  the  hand  of  Providence  in 
thus  arousing  them  to  a  sense  of  duty. 

In  a  few  days  the  ship  containing  the  other  mission- 
aries, after  many  delays,  arrived,  and  it  was  found  that 
Mr.  Rice  had  also  undergone  a  change  of  views. 

This  fresh  arrival  exasperated  the  officials  who  now 
issued  a  peremptory  order  for  the  whole  party  to  go  at 
once  on  board  a  ship  bound  for  England. 

Mahdri  had  accompanied  them  as  far  as  Calcutta, 
and  she  could  not  bear  the  thought  that  they  should  be 
hindered  from  going  to  Burmah,  though  Mr.  Carey  had 
made  them  believe  it  inaccessible.  She  learned  from 
a  native  servant  that  a  ship  was  about  to  sail  for  the 
Isle  of  France,  which  intelligence  she  immediately 
communicated  to  Mr.  Judson.  He  applied  at  once  for 
a  pass  to  go  on  board,  but  was  denied.  Relating  the 
circumstances  to  the  captain,  he  consented  to  take 
them  without  a  pass ;  and  Mr.  Rice,  with  Mr.  Judson 
and  his  wife,  took  passage  for  their  destination  after  so 
much  delay.  But  they  had  not  proceeded  far  down  the 
Hoogley  before  they  were  overtaken  by  a  government 
dispatch  commanding  the  pilot  to  proceed  no  further, 
as  passengers  were  on  board  who  had  been  ordered  to 
England.  They  were  rudely  put  ashore  at  a  mean 
tavern,  where  they  remained  for  three  days  almost  in 
despair,  and  seeking  vainly  some  means  of  escape. 

Mahdri,  learning  of  their  detention,  went  boldly 
before  the  magistrate,  and  after  much  pleading,  pro- 
cured from  him  a  pass  for  the  missionaries  on  the 
"  Creole  "  which  they  had  left. 

They  were  sitting  disconsolately  at  their  dinner  one 
day,  and  discussing  their   misfortunes   when  a  coolie 


THE   CHILD   OF   THE   GANGES.  149 

hastily  entered  and  thrust  the  pass  in  Mr.  Judson's 
hands  and  departed  without  a  word.  Their  hearts  over- 
flowed with  joy  at  this  unexpected  deliverance,  though 
they  had  no  idea  whence  it  came.  Procuring  a  boat 
they  set  out  immediately  to  reach  the  "  Creole  "  which 
they  found  just  setting  out  to  sea. 

At  length,  after  a  weary  perilous  voyage,  the  shore 
of  the  green  isle  appeared.  They  recognized  Mr. 
Newell  among  the  crowd,  and  Ann  rushed  on  deck  to 
greet  her  old  schoolmate,  thinking,  of  course,  she  would 
also  be  there  to  meet  them. 

"  Harriet !  Harriet !  "  she  cried,  "  Mr.  Newell,  where 
is  Harriet?" 

The  poor  man  could  speak  not  a  word,  but  with  tremb- 
ling finger,  pointed  upward,  and  falling  on  Mr.  Judson's 
shoulder,  burst  into  tears.  Ann  stood  by  in  great  dis- 
tress. Divining  the  cause  of  his  grief,  she  begged  him 
to  tell  them  all. 

Calming  himself  at  length,  he  told  them  of  their 
arrival  at  the  Isle,  with  its  unfriendly  climate;  of 
Harriet's  sickness  with  no  nurse  but  himself;  of  hei 
death,  like  the  fading  of  a  fragile  summer  flower,  and 
of  how  he  buried  her  with  her  new-born  babe,  in  a 
nameless  grave. 

Ann  was  almost  distracted  at  this  heart-rending  news. 

Poor,  poor  Harriet !  Is  this  the  end  to  the  noble 
life  which  you  two  loving  hearts  planned?  Must  you 
be  thus  cut  off  before  reaching  even  the  field  of  your 
life-work?  Having  gone  forth  weeping  and  bearing 
precious  seeds,  shall  you  not  return  rejoicing,  bearing 
your  sheaves  with  you?  Aye,  the  hallowed  green  mound 
shall  be  visited  by  many  pilgrim  feet  from  afar,  and  its 


150  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

verdant  grass  shall  be  watered  by  the  tears  of  other 
noble  saints  who  shall  be  moved  by  your  tragic  death  to 
emulate  your  noble  heroism.  Rest  in  peace.  The  angels 
of  love  shall  ever  stand  guard  over  the  lonely  grave. 

Ann  herself  had  a  very  severe  attack  of  illness  while 
on  the  island.  Mr.  Newell,  unable  to  reconcile  himself 
to  his  unutterable  loss,  departed  soon;  and  Mr.  Rice, 
with  Mr.  Judson's  consent,  returned  to  America  to 
inform  the  Baptists  there  of  their  action,  and  to  arouse 
them  to  lend  their  assistance  in  the  prosecution  of  their 
great  work.  It  was  soon  found  that  the  island  was 
unfavorable  to  the  establishing  of  a  mission;  and,  as 
they  had  given  up  all  idea  c  f  going  to  Burmah,  Mr. 
Judson  and  his  wife  decided  to  establish  a  mission  on 
an  island  near  Malacca,  to  reach  which  they  must  sail 
by  way  of  Madras.  But  on  reaching  the  latter  place 
no  vessel  was  found  ready  for  sailing  except  one  bound 
for  Rangoon,  Burmah.  Fear  of  the  East  India  Com- 
pany forced  them  to  embark  on  this ;  and  thus,  led  by 
the  hand  of  God,  they  were  driven  to  the  country  to 
which  he  had  at  first  directed  their  minds. 

The  sorrowing  but  hopeful  company  that  left  Salem, 
Mass.,  eighteen  months  before,  had  been  diminished, 
one  by  one,  till  now  only  two  were  left;  and  they  could 
no  longer  claim  recognition  from  the  great  body  before 
which  the  young  Andover  students  had  made  their  fiery 
speeches.  Trusting  in  God  that  he  would  arouse  his 
people  to  their  support,  and  bless  their  labors  in  the 
unfriendly  country  to  which  he  had  led  them,  they 
landed  at  Rangoon  as  was  related  in  the  former  chapter. 

The  reader  now  understands  the  sorrow  of  that  first 
night  spent  in  the  deserted  mission  house. 


BOOK  FOURTH. 


CHAPTER  I. 

"  Nay,  though  the  heart 
Be  consecrated  to  the  holiest  work 
Vouchsafed  to  mortal  effort,  there  will  be 
Ties  of  the  earth  around  it,  and,  through  all 
Its  perilous  devotion,  it  must  keep 
Its  own  humanity." 

— WhUiier. 

Though  surrounded  by  millions  of  fellow-creatures, 
the  condition  of  the  missionaries  was,  for  several  years, 
inexpressibly  lonely.  When  an  untutored  rustic  finds 
himself  for  the  first  time  in  the  streets  of  a  large  city, 
he  wanders  aimlessly  to  and  fro,  looking  wistfully  into 
the  heedless  faces  of  the  thousands  who  pass  him  by, 
and  feels  more  alone  in  the  crowded  throng  than  Crusoe 
on  his  solitary  isle.  So  with  Mr.  Judson  and  Ann 
Unacquainted  with  the  Burmese  language,  there  was  nc 
one  with  whom  they  could  communicate.  Trusting  in 
the  goodness  of  God  and  relying  on  his  unfailing  mercy, 
they  were  content  to  find  mutual  solace  in  each  other. 
They  wrote  to  their  friends  as  often  as  conveyance  could 
be  fqund  for  their  mail.  The"  following  extract  from  a 
letter  written  by  Ann  to  the  bereaved  husband  of  her 
beloved  Harriet  reveals  the  feelings  of  her  heart,  and 
the  obstacles  to  be  overcome : 

(151) 


152  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

"  Rangoon,  April  23,  1814. 
"My  Dear  Brother  Newell  : 

"  A  few  days  since  we  received  yours  of  December 
18th,  the  only  one  we  have  ever  received  since  you  left 
us  at  Port  Louis.  It  brought  fresh  to  my  mind  a  recol- 
lection of  scenes  formerly  enjoyed  in  our  dear  native 
country.  Well  do  I  remember  our  first  interesting  con- 
versations on  missions  and  on  the  probable  events 
which  awaited  us  in  India.  Well  do  I  remember  the 
dear  parental  habitation  where  you  were  pleased  to 
favor  me  with  your  confidence  relative  to  a  companion 
for  life.  And  well  do  I  remember  the  time  when  I  first 
carried  your  message  to  the  mother  of  our  dear  Harriet, 
when  the  excellent  woman  exclaimed  with  tears  in  her 
eyes,  '  I  dare  not,  I  cannot  speak  against  it.'  Those 
were  happy  days.  Newell  and  Judson,  Harriet  and 
Nancy,  then  were  united  in  the  strictest  friendship, 
then  anticipating  spending  their  lives  together  in  shar- 
ing the  trials  and  toils,  the  pleasures  and  enjoyments 
of  a  missionary  life.  But  alas !  behold  us  now !  In 
the  Isle  of  France,  solitary  and  alone,  lies  all  that  was 
once  visible  of  the  lovely  Harriet.  A  melancholy  wan- 
derer on  the  Isle  of  Ceylon  is  our  brother  Newell,  and 
the  savage,  heathen  empire  of  Burmah  is  destined  to 
be  the  future  residence  of  Judson  and  Nancy.  But  is 
this  separation  to  be  forever?  Shall  we  four  never 
again  enjoy  social,  happy  intercourse!  No,  my  dear 
brother,  our  separation  is  of  short  duration.  There  is 
a  rest — a  peaceful,  happy  rest,  where  Jesus  reigns, 
where  we  four  soon  shall  meet  to  part  no  more.  For- 
give my  gloomy  feelings,  or  rather  forgive  my  commu- 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  153 

nicating  them  to  you,  whose  memory,  no  doubt,  is  ever 
ready  to  furnish  more  than  enough  for  your  peace. 

"  As  Mr.  Judson  will  not  have  time  to  write  you  by 
this  opportunity,  I  will  endeavor  to  give  you  some  idea 
of  our  situation  here,  and  of  our  plans  and  prospects. 
We  have  found  the  country,  as  we  expected,  in  a  most 
deplorable  state,  full  of  darkness,  idolatry,  and  cruelty 
• — full  of  commotion  and  uncertainty.  We  daily  feel 
that  the  existence  and  perpetuity  of  this  mission,  still 
in  an  infant  state,  depends  in  a  peculiar  manner  on 
the  interposing  hand  of  Providence;  and  from  thic 
impression  alone  we  are  encouraged  still  to  remain. 
As  it  respects  our  temporal  privations,  use  has  made 
them  familiar,  and  easy  to  be  borne;  they  are  of  short 
duration,  and  when  brought  in  competition  with  the 
worth  of  immortal  souls,  sink  into  nothing.  We  have 
no  society,  no  dear  Christian  friends,  and  with  the 
exception  of  two  or  three  sea  captains,  who  now  and 
then  call  on  us,  we  never  see  a  European  face.  But 
then  we  are  still  happy  in  each  other ;  still  find  that 
our  own  home  is  our  best,  our  dearest  friend.  When 
we  feel  a  disposition  to  sigh  for  the  enjoyments  of  our 
native  country,  we  turn  our  eyes  on  the  miserable 
objects  around.  We  behold  some  of  them  laboring 
hard  for  a  scanty  subsistence,  oppressed  by  an  avari- 
cious government,  which  is  ever  ready  to  seize  what 
industry  had  hardly  earned;  we  behold  others  sick  and 
diseased,  daily  begging  the  few  grains  of  rice  which^ 
when  obtained,  are  scarcely  sufficient  to  protract  their 
wretched  existence,  and  with  no  other  habitation  to 
screen  them  from  the  burning  sun,  or  chilly  rains, 
than  what  a  small  piece  of  cloth  raised  on  four  bamboos 


154  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

under  a  tree  can  afford.  While  we  behold  these  scenes, 
we  feel  that  we  have  all  the  comforts,  and,  in  compari- 
son, even  the  luxuries  of  life.  We  feel  that  our  tempo- 
ral cup  of  blessing  is  full,  and  runneth  over.  But  is  our 
temporal  lot  so  much  superior  to  theirs?  Oh,  how 
infinitely  superior  our  spiritual  blessings !  While  they 
vainly  imagine  to  purchase  promotion  in  another  state 
of  existence  by  strictly  worshiping  their  idols  and 
building  pagodas,  our  hopes  of  future  happiness  are 
fixed  on  the  lamb  of  God,  who  taketh  away  the  sin  of 
the  world.  When  we  have  a  realizing  sense  of  these 
things,  my  dear  brother,  we  forget  our  native  country 
and  former  enjoyments,  feel  contented  and  happy  with 
our  lot,  with  but  one  wish  remaining — that  of  being 
instrumental  in  leading  these  Burmans  to  partake  of 
the  same  source  of  happiness  with  ourselves." 

Mr.  Judson,  having  procured  a  Burman  teacher  of 
rare  attainments,  gave  himself  diligently  to  the  acqui- 
sition of  the  language  which  is  peculiarly  difficult,  both 
in  structure  and  manner  of  expression,  besides  having 
no  adequate  grammar  or  dictionary  to  aid  in  transla- 
ting. Ann,  on  account  of  her  domestic  affairs,  found 
less  time  to  devote  to  study,  yet,  from  her  frequent 
intercourse  with  the  natives,  she  learned  to  speak  the 
language  more  readily  than  her  husband,  though  with 
less  knowledge  of  its  grammatical  structure. 

Realizing  the  advantage  to  be  gained  by  obtaining 
the  favor  of  the  civil  authorities,  Ann  determined  to 
make  the  acquaintance  of  the  wife  of  Mya-day-men, 
the  Viceroy  of  Rangoon.  She  accordingly  visited  the 
government  house,  but  her  highness  not  being  up  at  the 


THE   CHILD   OF   THE   GANGES.  155 

time,  she  was  received  by  the  inferior  wives  of  the 
Viceroy.  These,  though  extremely  polite  and  respect- 
ful, could  not  restrain  a  demonstration  of  their  innate 
feminine  curiosity  relative  to  such  a  rare  novelty  as  a 
white  female  dressed  in  her  foreign  costume.  They 
subjected  her  to  a  close  scrutiny,  and,  after  minutely 
examining  each  article  of  her  apparel,  successively 
trying  on  her  gloves  and  bonnet,  they  were  firmly  con- 
vinced that  she  was  no  less  an  object  of  interest  and 
wonder  than  his  royal  holiness,  the  great  white  elephant. 
At  length  the  door  opened  and  the  Vicerine  appeared, 
richly  dressed,  and  smoking  a  long  silver  pipe.  At  her 
appearance  the  other  wives  timidly  shrank  away  and 
sat  in  a  crouching  position  around  the  walls  of  the 
apartment.  Her  highness  was  very  gracious,  and 
taking  her  guest  by  the  hand,  seated  her  on  a  mat  by 
her  side,  sincerely  apologizing  for  her  delay,  as  she  was 
unwell.  Receiving  a  bunch  of  flowers  from  one  of  the 
women,  she  selected  several,  and  proceeded  to  ornament 
her  cap,  at  the  same  time  asking  many  questions  in 
regard  to  her  visitor.  Among  other  things  she  inquired 
if  she  was  Mr.  Judson's  highest  wife,  thinking  that  he, 
like  the  Burmans,  practiced  polygamj . 

"  I  am  the  only  one  he  has,"  replied  Ann,  "  for  it  is 
the  custom  of  Americans  to  have  but  one  wife  at  a  time." 

"  Have  you  any  children?  " 

"  I  have  not.  Our  first  child  was  buried  in  the  ocean 
before  we  ever  reached  the  land  of  the  Golden  Face." 

"  How  sad !     Will  you  tarry  long  with  us?  " 

"We  expect  to  remain  here  as  long  as  we  live,  or 
until  his  Majesty  shall  forbid." 

"  I  am  so  glad.     Then  I  can  see  you  often." 


156  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

Further  conversation  was  prevented  by  the  entrance 
of  the  Viceroy.  His  long  robe  and  enormous  spear, 
accompanied  by  his  own  savage  looks,  caused  Ann  to 
tremble,  but  she  was  reassured  by  the  gruff  kindness 
of  his  greeting,  and  found  courage  to  decline  his  offer 
of  rum  and  wine.  At  length,  thinking  that  her  visit 
had  been  sufficiently  prolonged,  she  arose  to  go,  where- 
upon her  highness  again  took  her  hand  and  led  her  to 
the  door.  "You  must  come  to  see  me  every  day,"  she 
said,  "  for  you  are  like  a  sister  to  me  and  I  shall  always 
be  happy  to  see  you."  Thanking  her  for  her  kindness, 
Ann  made  a  low  salaam  and  departed.  Great  reason 
did  she  afterwards  have  to  be  thankful  for  the  friend- 
ship of  the  wife  'of  Mya-day-men. 


CHAPTER  II. 

"Farewell,  a  long  farewell !    Yet  visit  me 
In  dreams,  my  darling  ;  though  the  visioned  joy 
Wake  bitter  pangs,  still  be  thou  in  my  thoughts, 
And  I  will  cherish  the  dear  dream,  and  think 
I  still  possess  thee.    Peace,  my  bursting  heart  I 
O  I  submit.    Again  I  lay  thee  down, 
Dear  relic  of  a  mother's  hope.    Thy  spirit 
Now  mingled  with  cherubic  hosts,  adores 
That  grace  that  ransomed  it,  and  lodged  it  safe 
Above  the  stormy  scene." 

—Rev.  J.  Law8on. 

Two  years  have  passed  since  we  found  the  little 
family  first  in  Rangoon ;  years  of  vicissitudes  and 
varied  changes.  Let  us  intrude,  for  a  moment,  on  the 
sanctity  of  their  home  circle  at  this  time.  Mr.  Judson 
seated  as  usual  at  his  study  table,  is  diligently  engaged 
in  solving  the  long  unbroken  lines  of  Burman  enigmas 
through  which  he  must  learn  to  communicate  the  Gospel 
to  the  people.  His  eyes  wander  often  from  the  page 
before  him,  and  rest  with  loving  tenderness  on  some- 
thing at  his  feet.  On  a  mat  by  his  chair,  and  in  full 
view  of  his  face,  lies  a  laughing  blue-eyed  boy  of  seven 
months  whom  they  call  Roger  Williams.  The  little 
one  tosses  his  baby  hands  and  kicks  with  delight  as  he 
meets  his  father's  gaze ;  lying  thus  for  hours,  perfectly 
contented  if  he  can  only  see  his  father's  face.  Ann  is 
heard  in  an  adjoining  room  moving  busily  about  like 
the  diligent  house-keeper  she  is;  when,  in  want  of 
something  in  her  press,  she  enters  the  room.  The  eyes 
of  little  Roger  follow  her  from  the  time  she  enters  till, 

(157; 


158  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

finding  what  she  wants,  she  moves  towards  the  door 
smiling  and  speaking  caressingly  to  the  little  form  on 
the  floor.  The  blue  eyes  fill  with  tears  as  the  young 
mother  passes  by  without  taking  him ;  seeing  which 
she  turns  and  stooping,  takes  him  in  her  arms,  imprint- 
ing a  kiss  on  his  rosy  lips.  He  coos  with  delight  at 
this  maternal  demonstration,  and  when  replaced  on  his 
mat,  allows  her  to  return  to  her  work. 

During  the  long  period  of  preparation  and  lonely 
seclusion,  God  has  sent  this  little  beam  to  brighten  the 
gloom  that  else  might  have  settled  over  them,  and  to 
keep  warm  the  hearts  that  might  have  otherwise  for- 
gotten the  strong  ties  of  nature  and  become  indifferent 
to  those  softer  feelings  that  only  a  parent  can  expe- 
rience. 

For  a  year  and  a  half  they  had  toiled  ceaselessly, 
when,  on  account  of  failing  health,  caused  by  over- 
work in  a  strange  climate,  Ann  was  compelled  to  take 
a  sea  voyage  and  a  change  of  air.  After  due  conside- 
ration of  the  matter,  and  to  some  extent  overcoming 
the  pangs  incident  on  such  a  separation,  she  consented 
to  leave  Mr.  Judson  alone  and  visit  Bengal.  Mya-day- 
men  was  very  kind  and  sent  with  her  a  female  attendant ; 
which  was  peculiarly  accommodating,  as  no  Burman 
woman  was  allowed  to  leave  the  country,  and  her 
expenses  were  paid  by  the  Viceroy  himself.  The  cap- 
tain of  the  vessel  on  which  she  sailed,  refused  pay  for 
her  passage  and  yet  provided  everything  necessary  for 
the  comfort  of  one  in  ill  health.  The  physician  at 
Madras  who  treated  her,  also  returned  the  proffered 
fee,  saying  that  he  was  glad  to  have  been  of  service  to 
her.     Much  recuperated  in  strength,  she  returned,  after 


THE  CHILD  OE  THE  GANGES.         159 

three  months,  to  Rangoon,  and  together  they  continued 
their  labors.  Soon  after  this  an  added  light  entered 
their  lonely  chamber,  and  with  hearts  overflowing  with 
joy,  love  and  praise,  they  lived  happily  in  the  daily 
performance  of  their  duties. 

"The  little  white  child"  was  an  unheard-of  curiosity 
in  Burmah,  and  the  eager  natives  vied  with  each  other 
in  paying  their  homage  to  the  little  visitor. 

Although  Mr.  Judson  was,  as  yet,  unable  to  preach 
to  the  people  in  their  native  tongue,  the  conduct  of  him- 
self and  wife  had  won  even  the  confidence  of  the  natives 
who  were  unaccustomed  to  honesty,  veracity  and  deeds 
of  uncompensated  kindness,  such  as  the  missionaries 
daily  exemplified ;  and  by  the  addition  of  the  child 
they  drew  around  them  a  circle  of  admiring  and  sym- 
pathizing friends,  though  from  the  teachings  of  their 
religion  they  were,  in  a  measure,  destitute  of  the  finer 
affections  of  the  human  heart.  Not,  as  yet,  fully  com- 
prehending the  intents  of  the  "  teacher,"  they  were 
being  gradually  prepared  for  the  unfolding  of  the 
wonderful  truths  which  he  was  preparing  to  give  them. 

It  is  morning  in  the  month  of  May.  The  air  is  yet 
cool  and  balmy,  and  sweet  with  the  fragrance  of  open- 
ing, dew-laden  flowers.  The  smiling  red  sun  is  just 
appearing  in  the  soft  Indian  sky,  and  "  feathered  song- 
sters "  hail  the  opening  day.  The  first  cheering  beams 
straggle  through  the  cracks  of  the  bamboo  shutters  and 
reveal  the  silent  objects  within.  The  "  teacher "  sits 
with  bowed  head  at  his  study  table.  The  night  lamp 
is  burning  low.  A  faint,  half-suppressed  moan  is 
heard  from  the  opposite  side  of   the  room.     There  in 


160  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

the  shadow  sits  Ann,  gazing  wistfully  upon  a  shrouded 
cradle,  weeping  silently,  and  anon  praying  to  God  for 
strength.  Little  Roger  has  been  taken  from  them. 
Like  a  flower  that  opens  its  bosom  to  the  light,  and,  for 
a  few  days,  emits  a  sweet  fragrance  blessing  its  stay 
and  then  fades  ;  or  like  a  sweet-voiced  bird  that  lights 
in  the  open  window,  startling  the  echoes  with  its  cheer- 
ful song  and  then  flies  away,  never  to  return,  the  angel 
spirit  has  flown,  leaving  darker  than  ever  the  gloom  of 
their  exile. 

God  knows  best.  The  time  had  come  when  their 
labors  must  begin.  The  magnitude  of  their  under- 
taking admitted  of  no  division  of  labor.  The  care  and 
affection  bestowed  on  the  child  amounted  to  almost 
idolatry,  and  God  hath  said,  "  Thou  shalt  have  none 
other  Gods  before  me."  The  tender  flower  was  exotic 
to  the  unfriendly  climate  of  its  birth,  and  the  Great 
Gardener  hath  transplanted  it  to  his  own  Paradise 
where  the  chilling  frosts  never  bite,  and  the  fierce  mon- 
soons never  blow. 

11  Hushed  be  the  murmuring  thought !    Thy  will  be  done, 

0  Arbiter  of  life  and  death.     I  bow 

To  thy  command — I  yield  the  precious  gift 

So  late  bestowed  ;  and  to  the  silent  grave 

Move  sorrowing,  yet  submissive.     O  sweet  babe  ! 

1  lay  thee  down  to  rest— the  cold,  cold  earth 
A  pillow  for  thy  little  head.     Sleep  on, 
Serene  in  death.    No  care  shall  trouble  thee. 
All  undisturbed  thou  slumberest ;  far  more  still 
Than  when  I  lulled  thee  in  my  lap,  and  sooth'd 

Thy  little  sorrows  till  they  ceased 

Then  felt  thy  mother  peace  ;  her  heart  was  light 
As1  the  sweet  sigh  that  'scaped  thy  placid  lips, 
And  joyous  as  the  dimpled  smile  that  played 


THE  CHILD  OP  THE  GANGES.  161 

Across  thy  countenance.     O  I  must  weep 
To  think  of  thee,  dear  infant,  on  niy  knees 
Untroubled  sleeping.     Bending  o'er  thy  form, 
I  watch' d  with  eager  hope  to  catch  the  laugh 
First  waking  from  thy  sparkling  eye,  a  beam 
Lovely  to  me  as  the  blue  light  of  heaven. 
Dimm'd  in  death's  agony,  it  beams  no  more  ! " 

Their  Burman  acquaintances  came  in  during  the  day, 
and  looking  Badly  on  the  little  waxen  figure,  tried  to 
console  the  weeping  young  mother;  but  their  words  of 
sympathy  only  added  pangs  of  pity  for  them.  They 
could  only  say,  "He  has  gone  to  Nirvana."  There  all  is 
Lethe,  forgetfulness,  annihilation.  Not  even  could 
they  give  the  more  cheerful  consolation  of  the  beauti- 
ful Hindu  faith,  that  his  soul  was  absorbed  into  the 
Great  Soul  like  a  bottle  of  water  broken  in  the  ocean, 
or  a  "  dew-drop  slipping  in  the  shining  sea." 

In  the  evening,  followed  by  forty  or  fifty  Burmans 
and  Portuguese,  they  bore  the  little  casket  to  a  clump  of 
mangoe  trees  in  the  yard  where  a  grave  had  been  dug. 
When  the  bereaved  parents  had  lifted  their  hearts  to 
God  in  a  song  of  praise  and  resignation,  and  the  father 
with  trembling  lips  had  offered  a  fervent  prayer,  resign- 
ing the  departed  spirit  to  Him  who  gave  it,  the  beloved 
features  were  hid  away,  and  arm  in  arm  they  returned, 
sorrowfully  but  trustfully,  to  their  home,  no  longer  a 
home. 

On  the  morrow  the  wife  of  the  Viceroy  came  in  great 
state,  attended  by  two  hundred  lords  and  royal  officers, 
to  condole  with  the  distressed  mother.  She  reproved 
her  for  not  informing  her  sooner  so  that  she  could  attend 
the  funeral.  She  showed  every  kindness  in  her  power 
and  again  invited  Ann  to  visit  her. 
11 


162  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

Ofttimes  mothers  in  this  Christian  land,  surrounded 
by  loved  ones  and  all  the  luxuries  of  life,  when  deprived 
of  one  of  their  nestlings,  repine  at  the  Providence  of 
God,  and  refuse  to  be  comforted.  What  must  have 
been  the  sufferings  of  this  poor  mother,  in  a  land  where 
no  congenial  friend  was  ever  seen,  and  but  few  com- 
forts of  life  to  be  had.  Yet  we  hear  her  say,  "  Though 
I  say  with  the  prophet,  c  Behold  and  see  if  there  be  any 
sorrow  like  unto  my  sorrow.'  Yet  I  would  also  say 
with  him,  '  It  is  of  the  Lord's  mercies  that  we  are  not 
consumed,  because  his  compassion  fail  not.'" 

Noble,  heroic  trust ! 


CHAPTER  III. 

1  Oh,  who  could  bear  life's  stormy  doom, 

Did  not  thy  wing  of  love 
Come  brightly  wafting  through  the  gloom 

One  Peace-branch  from  above  I 
Then  sorrow  touched  by  thee  grows  bright 

With  more  than  rapture's  ray  : 
As  darkness  shows  us  worlds  of  light 

We  never  saw  by  day." 


— Moore. 


Two  years  have  passed  since  the  death  of  little  Roger. 
On  May  20,  1817,  Mr.  Judson  finished  the  translation 
of  the  Gospel  of  Matthew,  which  was  the  beginning  of 
that  monumental  task  he  had  undertaken  of  translating 
the  whole  Bible  into  Burmese.  At  the  opening  of  this 
chapter  we  find  him  ready  to  begin  public  preaching, 
to  which  he  has  long  looked  forward  with  great  eager- 
ness. But  during  this  time,  from  1816  to  1818,  occurred 
one  event  which  served  as  a  foretaste  to  the  experiences 
which  are  to  be  described  in  succeeding  chapters. 

Mr.  Rice,  returning  to  America  from  the  Isle  of  France, 
had  succeeded  in  arousing  a  missionary  spirit  among 
the  Baptists,  who  now  organized  for  the  support  of  the 
laborers  in  the  field,  and  also  appointed  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Hough  to  go  to  Rangoon  as  co-laborers  with  the  Jud- 
son's.  The  patient  toilers  were  much  encouraged  and 
strengthened  by  this  addition  to  their  force,  especially 
as  Mr.  Hough  was  a  printer  and  brought  with  him  a 
printing  press  and  font  of  type  in  the  Burmese  char- 
acter, a  present  from  the    Serampore  Mission.      This 

(163) 


164  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

was  the  first  printing  press  ever  brought  to  Burmah,' 
and  the  incident  of  its  introduction  is  interesting  to 
notice.  The  first  printing  ever  done  in  the  world  was 
a  copy  of  the  Bible,  so  it  seems  that  the  Lord  reserved 
the  introduction  of  this  great  art  for  his  own  cause,  as 
the  first  use  to  which  it  was  put  in  this  great  empire 
was  to  print  tracts  and  Bibles.  Mr.  Hough  being  unac- 
quainted with  the  language,  confined  himself  exclu- 
sively to  the  mechanical  part  of  the  work,  while  Mr. 
Judson  did  the  writing  and  composing.  The  tracts 
were  soon  circulated,  and  as  sowers  of  seed,  they  could 
only  pray  that  some  might  fall  on  good  ground. 

One  day  Mr.  Judson  was  sitting  as  usual  with  his 
teacher  when  a  Burman  of  respectable  appearance,  and 
followed  by  a  servant,  came  into  the  zayat  and  took  a 
seat.  To  Mr.  Judson's  questions  of  greeting  he  scarcely 
replied,  and  seemed  to  be  ill  at  ease.  Suddenly  he  sur- 
prised them  by  asking : 

"  How  long  time  will  it  take  me  to  learn  the  religion 
of  Jesus?" 

"  Such  a  question,"  replied  Mr.  Judson,  "  cannot  be 
answered.  If  God  gives  light,  the  religion  of  Jesus  is 
soon  learned ;  but  without  that  a  man  might  study  all  his 
life  and  then  never  know  it.  But  how  came  you  to  know 
anything  of  Jesus?     Have  you  ever  been  here  before?  " 

"  No." 

"Have  you  seen  any  writing  concerning  Jesus?" 

"  I  have  seen  two  little  books." 

"Who  is  Jesus?"  asked  Mr.  Judson. 

"  He  is  the  Son  of  God,"  replied  the  man,  "  who, 
pitying  creatures,  came  into  this  world  and  suffered 
death  in  their  stead." 


THE    CHILD    OF    THE    GANGES.  165 

"  Who  is  God?  " 

"  He  is  a  being  without  beginning  or  end,  who  is  not 
subject  to  old  age  and  death,  but  always  is." 

The  effect  of  this  frank  confession  on  Mr.  Judson 
cannot  be  conceived.  For  years  he  had  lived  in  this 
land  of  atheists,  and  never  before  had  he  heard  a 
Burman  acknowledge  an  Eternal  God.  Producing  a 
tract  and  catechism,  he  handed  them  to  the  man  who 
recognized  them  at  once,  f,nd  immediately  began  read- 
ing from  place  to  placB  as  if  perfectly  familiar  with 
them  Mr.  Judson  now  tried  to  explain  to  him  more 
of  God  and  Jesus,  but  he  would  not  listen  intently,  and 
seemed  anxious  only  for  another  book. 

"  I  have  finished  no  other  book,"  said  Mr.  Judson, 
"but  in  two  or  three  months  I  will  give  you  a  larger 
one  which  I  am  now  translating." 

"But  have  you  not  a  little  of  that  book  done  now 
-Thich  you  will  graciously  give  me?  " 

Mr.  Judson  considered  for  a  moment,  then  thinking 
it  best  to  grant  this  voluntary  request,  folded  and  gave 
to  him  the  first  two  half-sheets  containing  the  first  five 
chapters  of  Matthew,  whereupon  he  arose  and  departed 
immediately  as  if  satisfied.  May  the  Grace  of  God  be 
with  him  in  reading. 

Mr.  Judson  now  determined  to  begin  public  preach- 
ing, but  though  fully  acquainted  with  the  structure  of 
the  language,  he  did  not  feel  competent  to  preach  in 
the  tongue  without  the  aid  of  a  native  assistant.  The 
English  Baptists  had  once  established  a  mission  in 
Chittagong,  the  natives  of  which  speak  Burman  Sev- 
eral of  these  had  been  converted  and  baptized,  and 
then  the  mission  was  abandoned  for  some  cause.     Mr. 


166  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

Judson  decided  to  go  there,  gather  together  the  scattered 
converts,  encourage  them  to  be  firm  in  the  faith,  and, 
if  possible,  to  bring  back  one  or  two  of  them  to  assist 
him  in  beginning  public  worship.  He  intended  a  voyage 
of  only  three  months,  as  the  vessel  on  which  he  sailed 
was  to  return  in  that  time.  But  he  trusted  himself  on 
a  treacherous  ocean,  as  will  afterwards  appear. 

Mr.  Hough  was  left  in  charge  of  the  mission  premises, 
and  the  society  of  his  wife  somewhat  compensated  Ann 
for  the  separation  from  her  husband,  especially  as  she 
so  rarely  saw  any  one  with  whom  she  could  converse  in 
her  own  tongue,  except  Mr.  Judson. 

Nothing  transpired  to  blight  their  prospects  till  the 
three  months  were  past,  at  the  end  of  which  time  Mr. 
Judson  was  expected  back.  Then,  to  the  great  dismay 
of  the  missionaries,  a  ship  arriving  from  Chittagong 
reported  that  neither  Mr.  Judson  nor  the  ship  in  wThich 
he  sailed  had  been  heard  of  in  Arracan.  The  same 
news  also  came  from  Bengal.  These  tidings  were  dis- 
tressing beyond  measure  to  the  devoted  wife  at  home, 
who  pictured  to  herself  her  beloved  husband  driven 
far  away  on  the  dark  waters,  or  his  bones  bleaching  in 
the  coral  groves  below. 

It  is  said  that  misfortunes  never  come  singly,  and  it 
was  true  of  the  missionaries.  Mya-day-men,  the  friendly 
Viceroy,  was  recalled  to  Ava  and  another  sent  in  his 
place.  Like  Pharaoh  that  knew  not  Joseph,  the  new 
Viceroy  had  never  heard  of  the  white  teachers,  and 
looked  upon  them  with  suspicion.  War  was  rumored 
between  Burmah  and  England.  The  proud  King 
believing  that  all  the  world,  like  his  own  servile  sub- 
jects, must  quake  at  the  name  of    the  Golden  Face, 


THE   CHILD   OP   THE   GANGES.  167 

essayed  to  drive  the  English  from  Arracan.  Mr.  Hough, 
suspected  of  being  an  English  spy,  was  rudely  seized 
and  dragged  to  the  court-house  where  he  was  told  if  he 
did  not  tell  the  truth  in  regard  to  his  presence  in  the 
country  they  would  write  with  his  heart's  blood.  It 
was  falsely  reported  that  a  royal  order  had  come  for 
the  banishment  of  all  foreign  teachers,  and  Mr.  Hough, 
unable  to  speak  in  Burman,  was  detained  from  day  to 
day  on  the  most  flimsy  excuses,  until  Ann,  suspecting 
that  he- was  detained  for  the  purpose  of  extorting  money 
from  them,  and  that  without  orders,  determined  to  make 
an  effort  for  his  release.  The  family  of  the  Viceroy 
was  absent  and  it  was  not  etiquette  for  a  woman  to 
appear  alone  in  the  presence  of  his  highness.  Yet, 
with  that  intrepid  daring  that  never  was  known  to 
shrink  even  under  the  most  hazardous  enterprises,  she? 
like  Esther,  taking  her  life  in  her  hand,  ventured  into 
the  palace  uncalled  for  and  found  favor.  Having  plainly 
stated  the  facts  to  the  Viceroy,  he  ordered  the  imme- 
diate release  of  Mr.  Hough,  and  commanded  that  the 
missionaries  should  not  be  further  molested. 

So  far  from  being  an  end,  this  was  but  the  beginning 
of  disasters.  That  fearful  epidemic,  the  cholera,  so 
much  dreaded  in  southern  climates,  began  to  rage  with 
alarming  violence.  The  mission  house  was  just  with- 
out the  walls  of  the  city,  near  the  place  for  the  burn- 
ing of  the  dead.  Day  and  night  the  horrible  noise  of 
the  death-drum  was  heard  continually,  announcing,  in 
rapid  succession,  the  departure  of  poor  unguided  spirits 
into  Nirvana.  Litters  bearing  the  bodies  of  the  dead 
were  continually  depositing  their  ghastly  burdens  with- 
out the  walls  to  be  burned,  and  returning  for  more. 


168  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGFS. 

All  day  long  the  dense  smoke  from  the  funeral  pyres 
rolled  in  clouds  above  the  mission  house ;  and  at  night 
the  pestilential  marshes  were  lit  up  by  the  lurid  glare 
of  burning  flesh. 

The  mission  was  now  in  a  distressing  condition.  The 
natives,  conscious  of  the  intolerance  of  the  government 
for  foreign  religions,  were  frightened  away  by  the  arrest 
of  Mr.  Hough,  and  most  of  the  learners  were  prevented 
by  the  plague.  Mr.  Judson  had  not  been  heard  of  for 
six  months  and  it  was  believed  that  the  vessel  on  which 
he  sailed  was  lost.  Neither  Mr.  Hough  nor  his  wife 
could  speak  the  language,  and  disheartened  by  the 
state  of  affairs,  they  contemplated  a  removal  to  Bengal, 
at  least  until  the  war  was  over.  Already  all  English 
ships  were  fleeing  from  the  harbor  and  now  only  one 
remained,  the  last  chance  of  escape,  and  that  ready  to 
sail.  They  daily  importuned  Ann  to  forsake  her  post 
and  go  with  them,  assuring  her  that  if  Mr.  Judson 
should  come  the  ship  would  not  be  allowed  to  land,  and 
if  yet  living,  they  would  be  certain  to  meet  him  in 
Bengal.  Harassed  beyond  measure,  she  was  urged  on 
board  against  her  will.  Even  then  the  thought  of  Mr. 
Judson's  returning  and  finding  his  home  deserted  and 
his  wife  gone,  he  knew  not  where,  induced  her  to  stead- 
fastly refuse  at  the  last  moment  and  return  to  the 
mission  house,  there  to  abide  alone  till  he  should  come, 
trusting  God  to  protect  her  from  harm.  There,  her  eyes 
beholding  the  still  burning  dead,  and  listening  to  the 
hoarse  mutterings  of  war,  she  stood  at  her  post  and 
waited. 

Nor  was  her  confidence  in  vain.  Within  a  week  she 
had  the  inexpressible   joy  of   greeting  her  returning 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES,  169 

husband,  though  but  a  skeleton  of  his  former  self.  His 
brow  was  marked  with  the  traces  of  recent  pain,  and 
his  whole  person  exhibited  signs  of  the  deepest  suffer- 
ing and  privation.  The  vessel  on  which  he  sailed  had 
encountered  adverse  winds,  and  was  driven  into  tho 
open  sea,  anchoring  after  many  weeks  in  a  distant  part 
of  India,  hundreds  of  miles  from  their  destination. 
During  that  long  protracted  voyage  the  provisions  had 
given  almost  entirely  out,  only  a  few  grains  of  rice 
being  allotted  as  the  daily  portion  of  each.  Mr.  Judson 
had  a  violent  attack  of  sickness  on  board,  and  his 
frame,  racked  with  pain,  and  his  body  burning  with 
fever,  with  no  water  to  quench  his  raging  thirst,  he 
only  prayed  to  reach  land  where  he  might  die  and  be 
buried.  When  at  length  the  vessel  came  to  anchor  in 
the  mud  of  Masulipatam,  and  he  saw  English  faces 
approaching  he  fell  on  his  knees  and  wept  for  joy2  for 
never  had  a  white  face  appeared  to  him  so  beautiful 
before.  He  was  kindly  received  and  cared  for  till  able 
to  travel  again,  when  he  was  sent  by  palanquin  to 
Madras,  thence  sailing  for  Rangoon. 

Though  disappointed  in  obtaining  one  of  the  Arra- 
canese  converts  to  assist  him,  he  nevertheless  deter- 
mined to  pursue  his  original  plan  of  beginning  public 
preaching.  This  was  more  than  ever  necessary  since 
Mr.  Hough  had  taken  with  him  the  printing  press,  and 
he  had  no  other  means  of  communicating  to  as  many 
people  as  formerly.  He  began  at  once  the  erection  of 
a  zayat  in  which  to  hold  his  daily  services,  and  in  one 
room  of  which  Ann  could  instruct  her  class  of  Burman 
women  whom  she  had  gathered  around  her. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

'  Whence  comest  thou?  ' 


-Job  i:  7. 


Half  way  between  Rangoon  and  Ava  is  Prome  on  the 
Irrawaddy,  one  of  the  chief  cities  of  the  country, 
scarcely  less  important  than  Rangoon  as  a  commercial 
center.  Several  vessels  were  anchored  in  the  harbor, 
among  which  was  a  small  fishing  smack  owned  by  a 
swarthy,  weather-beaten  Burman.  The  master  was 
scolding  loudly,  and  berating  the  innocent  helmsman 
because  one  of  the  crew  had  forsaken  them  just  as  they 
were  ready  to  embark  and  another  could  not  be  pro- 
cured. About  this  time  a  man  appeared  on  the  wharf 
approaching  in  the  direction  of  the  vessel.  He  was  a 
person  of  splendid  physique,  though  having  the  appear- 
ance of  being  much  worn,  and,  on  account  of  trouble 
or  grief,  prematurely  old,  yet  he  could  not  have  been 
more  than  forty  years  of  age.  His  dignified  bearing 
was  strangely  out  of  keeping  with  his  dress,  which  was 
that  of  the  simplest  menial.  At  a  first  glance  his  face 
seems  familiar,  but  his  down-cast  look  and  simple 
appearance  belie  our  first  impressions.  Crossing  the 
plank,  he  stood  on  deck,  seeing  which  the  master  turned 
and  accosted  him. 

"  Who  are  you?  "  he  said. 

"  My  name  is  Moung  Ing,"  replied  the  stranger. 

"  What  do  you  want  on  here?  " 
(170) 


THE  CHILD  OP  THE  GANGES.  171 

11  Having  heard  that  you  had  lost  a  man,  I  came  to 
apply  for  his  place." 

"  Have  you  any  experience  in  managing  a  vessel  or 
in  catching  fish?" 

"  None  whatever,  but  I  thought  I  might  learn." 

"  Strange  application  that.  I  have  no  use  for  begin- 
ners. First  learn  your  trade  and  then  apply  for  a  posi- 
tion." 

Here  the  helmsman  interposed. 

"  Master,  the  man  seems  in  earnest  and  will  doubtless 
do  his  best.  We  have  no  other,  why  not  at  least  give 
him  the  trial  of  one  trip?  " 

The  master  only  scowled  as  if  admonishing  him  to 
hold  his  peace. 

"  Certainly,"  said  Moung  Ing,  "  I  would  try  to  do  all 
in  my  power,  and  I  hope  my  close  application  will  com- 
pensate for  my  want  of  skill." 

At  length,  after  some  debate,  and  finding  that  there 
was  no  other  alternative,  he  was  received  on  trial,  and 
they  proceeded  down  the  river.  They  expected  to  stop 
for  a  day  or  two  at  Rangoon,  and  then  go  as  usual  to 
the  sea  coast.  Moung  Ing  applied  himself  so  assidu- 
ously to  his  duties  that  in  a  few  days  the  captain, 
naturally  of  a  hilarious  temperament,  began  to  be  much 
pleased  with  him,  and  praised  him  extravagantly,  call- 
ing him  a  "good  fellow"  and  the  "best  of  the  crew." 
It  was  not  on  account  of  his  outward  surroundings, 
and  his  being  among  strangers,  but  seemingly,  from 
some  inward  sentiment,  that  Moung  Ing  was  unusually 
reticent,  especially  for  a  boatman.  So  much  absorbed 
did  he  often  seem  with  his  own  thoughts,  that  he 
scarcely  noticed  the  jocular  remarks  of  the  garrulous 


172  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

captain,  or  the  uncouth  jests  of  the  kindly  old  helms- 
man. 

On  the  third  day  they  came  in  sight  of  the  glitter- 
ing pinnacle  of  the  Great  Golden  Pagoda  of  Rangoon. 
The  river  was  now  full  of  boats,  moving  in  every  direc- 
tion, and  the  air  confused  with  a  jargon  of  sounds. 
Moung  Ing  was  not  in  the  least  interested  in  the  Babel 
around  him,  but  remained  as  taciturn  as  ever.  They 
stopped  at  an  upper  landing,  and  a  man  who  seemed  to 
be  acquainted  with  the  captain  came  on  board,  full  of 
news,  and  bearing  a  folded  paper  tightly  clasped  in  his 
hand.  He  said  there  was  much  commotion  in  the  city 
on  account  of  a  man  who  was  teaching  a  new  religion, 
and  sending  "  little  books  "  all  over  the  land.  At  the 
first  mention  of  a  new  religion,  Moung  Ing's  face  lighted 
up  with  a  strange  animation. 

"  Whence  came  the  man?  "  he  eagerly  asked. 

"From  over  the  sea  toward  the  West,"  replied  his 
informant. 

"Of  what  race  is  he?" 

"  Of  the  pale-faced." 

"What  does  he  teach?" 

"  He  says  there  is  One  Eternal  God  to  whom  we  must 
all  give  account.     This  is  a  part  of  his  book." 

Moung  Ing  grasped  eagerly  the  folded  sheets  and 
scanned  their  contents.  It  was  the  five  chapters  of 
Matthew  which  Mr.  Judson  had  given  awcy,  not  know- 
ing the  result,  yet  sending  them  forth  as  'bread  cast  on 
the  waters. 

Moung  Ing  returned  the  manuscript  and  inquiring 
minutely  as  to  the  location  of  the  mission  house, 
returned  to  his  work  as  silent  as  ever ;  but  there  was 


THE    CHILD    OF    THE    GANGES.  173 

an  elasticity  in  his  tread,  and  a  brightness  in  his  eyes, 
such  as  his  companions  had  never  observed  in  him 
before. 

"  Can  it  be  true,"  he  thought,  "  that  the  time  has 
come  at  last,  and  God  will  reveal  himself  to  me?  But 
I  have  so  often  hoped  and  been  so  sadly  disappointed 
I  can  scarcely  believe  as  yet.  We  land  to-night,  and 
to-morrow  I  will  go  myself  to  see  the  white  teacher 
from  the  West." 

Thus  the  morning  star  sheds  its  beams  on  Mekara  in 
disguise.  Be  patient  and  hopeful,  O  prince,  the  sun 
will  rise  in  the  morning ! 


CHAPTER  V. 

"  O  Burmah  !  shrouded  in  the  pall 
Of  error's  dreadful  night ! 
For  wings— for  wings  once  more  to  bear 

To  thy  dark  shores  the  light ; 
To  rear  upon  thy  templed  hills, 

And  by  thy  sunny  streams, 
The  standard  of  the  Cross,  where  now 
The  proud  Pagoda  gleams." 

— H.  S.  Washburn. 

Two  miles  out  from  Rangoon,  on  a  beautiful  hill, 
stands  the  great  Shway  Dagong  Pagoda,  a  wonder  of 
the  empire.  The  gently  sloping  hill  is  graded  with 
terraces,  thickly  dotted  with  smaller  pagodas,  and 
embowered  with  shade-trees.  The  top  is  perfectly  flat, 
containing  an  area  of  about  two  acres.  On  this,  and 
entirely  covering  it,  rises  the  gilded  pile,  as  if  it  were 
an  extension  of  the  hill,  though  its  sides  are  gold.  The 
enclosure  surrounding  the  hill  is  densely  thronged  with 
miniature  temples,  little  pagodas,  images  of  Gautama, 
great  stone  vases,  standing  in  rows  for  the  reception  of 
offerings,  lofty  pillars  draped  with  banners  of  gold, 
embroidered  muslin,  lights  burning  steadily  before  the 
faces  of  images,  garlands  of  flowers  loading  the  air 
with  fragrance,  tombs,  zayats,  and  carved  figures  of 
every  description.  It  is  held  the  most  sacred  of  all 
pagodas,  because  it  is  believed  to  enshrine  four  real 
hairs  of  Gautama.  There  is  said  to  be  a  shaft  of  solid 
gold  extending  from  bottom  to  top,  and  the  summit  is 
covered  with  a  great  golden  umbrella  visible  for  many 

(174) 


THE   CHILD   OF    THE   GANGES.  175 

miles.  The  road  connecting  the  pagoda  with  the  city- 
is  literally  a  street  whose  entire  length  is  lined  with 
continuous  rows  of  pagodas,  many  of  them  almost  as 
splendid  as  the  Shway  Dagong  itself. 

Every  morning  the  vast  population  of  the  city  goes 
out  in  mass  to  worship.  The  road  is  filled  its  entire 
length  with  an  innumerable  throng.  They  proceed  with 
waving,  crimson  banners,  streaming  paper  flyers,  gar- 
lands of  flowers,  and  accompanied  by  the  deafening 
sound  of  drums  and  pealing  metal  gongs.  In  the 
enclosure  of  the  temple  some  are  decorating  the  images 
with  wreaths  of  flowers,  while  others  deposit  their 
offerings  of  fruit  and  flowers  in  the  great  stone  vases 
to  be  soon  carried  away  by  the  multitudes  of  crows  that 
blacken  the  air,  and  add  their  hideous  cries  to  the  din 
of  the  temple-drums  which  each  votary  sounds  in  order 
to  let  the  god  know  of  his  sacrifice. 

This  was  the  great  rushing  tide  of  humanity  that 
Mr.  Judson  wished  to  stop  and  turn  into  another  chan- 
nel. Planting  his  engines  on  the  bank  he  began,  by 
imperceptible  degrees,  to  undermine  the  ancient  and 
seemingly  impregnable  flood-gates.  He  had  purposely 
erected  his  zayat  on  the  side  of  the  great  thoroughfare 
leading  to  the  pagoda,  and  sitting  on  the  veranda,  ho 
daily  cried  to  the  passing  throng,  u  Ho !  every  one  that 
thirsteth,  come !  "  Does  it  not  seem  a  weak  and  vain 
effort,  the  crying  of  that  one  voice  against  the  great 
clamor  of  the  crowd?  Their  eyes  were  filled  with 
visions  of  the  gorgeous  ritual,  and  their  ears  tuned  to 
the  sound  of  loud  music.  What  had  he  to  attract  atten- 
tion? Only  the  sweet  old  story  of  the  Cross.  In  all 
ages  it  thrills  the  heart  and  warms  the  soul.     Even 


176  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

here  the  Spirit  of  God  will  show  its  power,  and  His 
word  shall  not  return  to  Him  void.  Some,  from  mere 
curiosity,  stopped  to  "  see  what  this  babbler  hath  to 
say,"  others  having  seen  the  tracts,  came  to  inquire  the 
way  of  life. 

The  next  morning  after  the  events  recorded  in  the 
former  chapter,  a  man  passed  by  in  the  crowd,  yet  he 
seemed  to  be  no  part  of  it.  His  eyes  rested  closely  on 
every  surrounding  object  as  if  looking  for  something. 
When  opposite  the  zayat  he  heard  the  usual  cry  of  the 
man  of  God.  Halting  for  a  moment,  he  closely  scruti- 
nized the  face  of  the  speaker,  and  seemed  listening  for 
more,  debating  in  his  mind  as  to  whether  he  should 
stop.  But  the  surging  crowd  pushed  him  on  and  he 
moved  away  like  a  bubble  with  the  current,  pondering 
with  himself,  "  That  was  a  white  man,  and  the  words 
he  utters  are  sweet  to  the  soul,  for  who  is  it  thirsts  more 
than  I  for  a  knowledge  of  the  truth  ?  I  will  return 
another  time  and  seek  him." 

He  had  often  been  disappointed ;  now  he  was  cau- 
tious, though  more  than  ever  assured  that  the  truth  was 
near  at  hand — Moung  Ing  approached  the  light. 

Several  had  been  visiting  the  zayat,  among  whom  was 
Moung  Nau  who  was  the  first  to  embrace  the  new  reli- 
gion. The  hearts  of  the  missionaries  were  joyful  as 
they  were  at  last  able  to  report  a  convert.  Messrs.  Col- 
man  and  Wheelock  had  shortly  before  arrived  with 
their  wives,  and  the  six  missionaries,  uniting  as  a 
church,  heard  the  experience  of  Moung  Nau  and  voted 
to  receive  him  as  a  candidate  for  baptism.  Two  others, 
Moung  Byaa  and  Moung  Thahla,  were  soon  added  and 
the  work  seemed  more  hopeful  than  was  even  antici- 
pated when  the  zayat  was  built. 


THE   CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  177 

A  learned  teacher,  Moling  Shwa  gnong,  often  came  to 
dispute  with  Mr.  Judson.  He  displayed  great  inge- 
nuity in  discussion,  yet  never  took  any  definite  grounds. 

It  is  now  Sabbath  morning  and  Mr.  Judson  has 
preached  to  a  large  audience,  showing  them  how  to 
observe  the  Lord's  Day  and  administering  the  supper 
to  the  disciples.  Moung  Ing  was  present  at  the  ser- 
vices and  seemed  much  affected.  He  had  been  a  daily 
visitor  to  the  zayat  for  several  days,  but  fin-ding  Mr. 
Judson  thronged  with  inquirers,  had  directed  most  of 
his  conversation  to  Moung  Nau,  desiring  to  hear  from 
others  the  object  of  the  white  teacher,  and  what  the 
knowledge  of  God  had  done  for  one  of  his  own  race.  He 
and  Moung  Nau  read  together  from  the  precious  five 
chapters  of  Matthew,  Moung  Nau  himself  calling  atten- 
tion to  thesixth,containing  a  part  of  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount. 

"  See  here,"  he  said,  "  how  superior  is  the  teaching  of 
Jesus  to  that  of  Buddha !  Here  we  are  told  not  to  do 
our  alms  before  men  to  be  seen  of  them,  nor  to  make 
long  prayers,  and  useless  repetition  on  the  streets,  but 
to  go  in  our  closets  and  pray.  Oh,  it  fills  me  full  to 
think  of  it  !  When  I  worshiped  at  Shway  Dagong  I 
marched  in  a  great  crowd  with  gorgeous  display,  and 
when  I  deposited  my  offerings  I  sounded  a  gong,  then  I 
went  to  my  home  weary  and  dusty,  my  eyes  dazzled 
with  gawdy  scenes,  and  my  ears  ringing  with  horrid 
sounds,  conscious  that  no  one  had  seen  or  heard  me  but 
the  people.  Now  I  go  alone,  and  in  the  solitude  of  my 
chamber,  offer  to  God  the  sacrifices  of  a  broken  heart 
and  a  contrite  spirit.  No  human  eye  sees  me,  no  ear 
of  man  hears  me,  but  God  in  heaven  listens  and  His 
12 


178  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGE3. 

Holy  Spirit  warms  my  heart.  Oh,  it  is  a  great  thing  to 
know  God,  my  brother !  " 

"  Indeed,  it  must  be,"  said  Moung  Ing.  "  I  have 
sought  him  these  seven  years  and  found  him  not.  De- 
prived of  my  beloved  family,  through  many  and  dis- 
tant lands  have  I  wandered,  praying  and  longing,  until 
almost  in  despair  of  ever  finding  him,  I  have  engaged 
to  go  to  sea  that  its  tempests  may  help  to  drown  the 
ragings  of  my  own  soul.  Pray  to  your  God  that  he  may 
reveal  himself  to  me  !  " 

After  services  Mr.  Judson  held  a  long  conversation 
with  him  and  explained  the  word  of  the  Lord  more  per- 
fectly. Ere  long  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the 
light  dawning  on  his  soul. 

What  a  grand  thing  it  is  to  see  the  mists  of  supersti- 
tion and  error  roll  away  before  the  dark — dispelling 
beams  of  the  sun  of  righteousness !  Like  over-flowing 
rivers  sweeping  across  India's  burning  plains,  producing 
from  scorching  sands  a  spontaneous  outburst  of  green 
fields  and  waving  forests,  the  Spirit  of  God  bears  the 
Gospel  into  the  soul,  washing  away  its  pestilential  sins, 
and  from  its  softening,  generating  influence  spring  up 
fruits  unto  life  eternal. 

The  fisning  vessel  was  to  sail  on  the  morrow,  and 
Moung  Ing  felt  duty  bound  to  fill  his  engagement, 
though  he  desired  to  remain  and  receive  further  instruc- 
tions. Mr.  Judson  regretted  very  much  that  he  was 
compelled  to  take  the  voyage,  fearing  that  so  long  an 
absence,  among  different  people,  would,  in  a  measure, 
destroy  the  effect  produced  by  his  first  hearing  the 
Gospel,  not  knowing  the  depth  of  the  impression  made 
upon  him.     But  an  object  so  long  sought  for  is  not 


THE   CHILD   OF   THE   GANGES.  179 

bo  easily  relinquished.  Taking  with  hirn  some  tracts 
to  read,  and  promising  to  pray  and  ponder  over  the 
things  he  had  heard,  Mouog  Ing  departed  next  morning 
on  his  voyage. 

Moung  Shwa  gnong  now  became  an  importunate 
inquirer,  often  remaining  till  night  with  Mr.  Jud- 
son  that  he  might  have  a  private  conversation 
with  him.  But  one  morning  he  failed  to  make  his 
appearance,  as  did  also  many  of  the  other  inquirers. 
On  investigation  it  was  found  that  Moung  Shwa  gnong 
had  been  accused  to  the  Viceroy,  and  that  august  per- 
sonage had  replied  in  words  of  ominous  import,  "In- 
quire further  about  him."  This  had  frightened  the 
inquirers  to  such  an  extent  that  they  no  longer  dared 
to  approach  the  zayat  for  fear  of  offending  the  Lord  of 
Life  and  Death. 

There  had  been  a  great  change  in  civil  authority. 
Not  only  had  their  old  friend  Mya-day-men  been  suc- 
ceeded by  the  present  Viceroy,  but  even  the  royal  house- 
hold had  undergone  a  revolution.  Minder-a-ge-praw, 
the  king,  had  not  discouraged  the  new  religion  since 
he  himself  had  formed  a  violent  hatred  for  Buddhism, 
perhaps  on  account  of  the  memory  of  his  beloved  son, 
Mekara,  who  had  been  lost  to  him  through  its  influ- 
ence. But  a  whisper  wakes  the  air.  Some  say  the 
king  is  sick.  Now  a  universal  hush  and  death-like 
stillness  pervades  the  great  empire.  No  one  dares  to 
guess  the  reason ;  it  would  be  an  unpardonable  crime, 
for  the  u  lord  of  land  and  water  "  is  called  immortal. 
The  attendants  wait  before  -the  palace,  and  the  Queen 
comes  out  smiting  on  her  breast  and  wailing,  "Aina! 
Ama ! "  They  look  at  each  other  breathlessly  and 
depart.     Nirvana  has  engulfed  another  soul. 


180  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

Now  great  commotion  ensues.  Mekara,  the  heir  to 
the  throne,  has  long  since  been  as  dead  to  the  royal 
family.  The  king's  next  oldest  son  is  dead,  but  has 
left  a  son,  who  has  been  declared  heir  to  the  crown. 
The  new  king,  Nyoung-dan-ghee,  has  found  two  power- 
ful opponents  in  the  persons  of  his  father's  younger 
brothers.  But  he  was  now  Lord  of  Life  and  Death,  and 
all  must  bow  to  him.  The  two  princes  must  acknow- 
ledge his  power  or  die.  The  people  look  on  in  dread  of 
a  great  civil  war,  and  long  for  the  rightful  king, 
Mekara.  Happy  Mekara,  sailing  away  a  fisherman  on 
the  seal  But  all  is  soon  settled.  The  great  Prince  of 
Toung  Oo  is  slain  with  his  family  and  followers,  and 
the  mighty  Prince  of  Pyee  buried  alive  in  the  myste- 
rious ce  Jar  of  the  palace. 

The  waiting  crowd  now  hears  the  ro\al  proclama- 
tion; 

"  Listen  ye  :  The  immortal  king,  wearied,  it  would 
seem,  with  the  fatigues  of  royalty,  has  gone  up  to  amuse 
himself  in  the  celestial  regions.  His  grandson,  the 
heir-apparent,  is  seated  on  the  throne.  The  young 
monarch  enjoins  on  all  to  remain  quiet,  and  wait  his 
imperial  order." 

The  new  king,  so  far  from  favoring  his  grand- 
father's course  in  regard  to  religion,  restored  to  their 
former  places  the  banished  priests  of  Buddha  and 
renewed  the  persecution  against  all  innovations.  Like 
a  whirlwind  in  a  flock  of  pigeons,  the  imperial  dis- 
turbances had  scattered  the  audience  at  the  mission 
house.  Only  a  few  of  the  most  zealous  remained  with 
the  professed  disciples.  Something  must  be  done,  or 
the   mission  will   perish.     Mr.  Judson   conceived  the 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  181 

idea  of  going  to  Ava  and  venturing  in  person  into  the 
presence  of  the  Golden  Face  and  laying  a  petition  at 
the  Golden  Feet.  Mr.  Wheelock,  on  account  of  failing 
health,  had  departed  with  his  wife  for  Bengal,  and  only 
Mr.  Colman  remained  to  accompany  Mr.  Judson  on  this 
daring  expedition. 

A  petition  was  prepared  making  known  their  request, 
and  a  tract  carefully  arranged  especially  for  the  peru- 
sal of  the  Golden  Face.  As  it  was  not  customary  to 
appear  before  him  without  a  present,  they  carried  with 
them  a  handsome  copy  of  the  Bible  in  seven  volumes, 
bound  in  gold-leaf,  and  each  volume  enclosed  in  a  rich 
wrapper.  Leaving  their  faithful  wives  under  the  pro- 
tection of  Jehovah,  they  procured  a  boat  and  proceeded 
with  trembling  hearts  toward  the  Golden  City. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"The  kings  of  the  earth  set  themselves,  and  the  rulers  take  counsel  together, 

against  the  Lord,  and  against  his  anointed,  Baying,  ■ Let  us  break  their  banJs 

asunder  and  cast  away  their  corda  from  us.'" 

—Psalms  ii,  2—3. 

Mya-day-men,  on  his  removal  from  Rangoon  to  Ava, 
had  become  one  of  the  chief  officers  of  the  state  under 
the  new  monarch,  and  was  made  a  woon-gyee  of  high 
authority. 

One  morning,  about  a  month  after  the  setting  out  of 
the  teachers  from  Rangoon,  he  was  sitting  in  his  audi- 
ence chamber  surrounded  by  various  dignitaries  of 
state,  his  favorite  officer,  Moung  Yo,  by  his  side.  It 
was  announced  that  two  foreigners  in  black  were  with- 
out desirous  of  speaking  with  his  highness.  At  a 
signal  from  the  woon-gyee,  Moung  Yo  retired  and  pre- 
sently returned,  followed  by  Mr.  Judson  and  Mr.  Col- 
man.  Seeing  Mr.  Judson  and  recognizing  him  as  an 
old  acquaintance,  Mya-day-men  arose  with  evident 
pleasure  in  his  manner  and  addressed  him  cordially. 

"  Ah,  Tsa-Yah,  I  am  happy  to  see  you  again,  and  that 
in  the  Golden  City  of  the  great  King.  Whom  else 
from  the  foreign  land  have  we  here?"  looking  at  Mr. 
Colman,  who  respectfully  bowed  in  silence. 

"  Tha^k,  your  highness,  for  the  welcome,"  said  Mr. 
Judson,  "  and  may  we  always  be  worthy  of  your  gra- 
cious favor.  This  is  Mr.  Colman,  who  only  arrived  at 
Rangoon,  since  your  departure.  He  has  not  yet  learned 
to  speak  Burman  which  accounts  for  his  silence." 

(182) 


THE   CHILD    OF   THE   GANGES.  183 

With  an  assuring  look  at  Mr.  Colman,  he  continued: 

"And  how  is  the  white  lady  whom  my  wife  loved  so 
much,  and  who  lost  the  little  white  child?  " 

"  Mrs.  Judson  is  well,  and  sends  this  token  of  her 
regards  to  your  excellent  wife.  Be  pleased  also  to 
receive  this  unworthy  present  for  yourself  that  we  may 
come  with  favor  in  the  presence  of  your  highness  while 
in  the  city."  Saying  which  he  laid  two  valuable  pres- 
ents in  the  hands  of  Moung  Yo  who  deposited  them  at 
his  master's  feet. 

The  minister  recognized  the  offerings  with  a  smile  of 
satisfaction,  and  then  inquired  how  long  they  intended 
to  remain  in  the  city,  and  if  he  could  do  anything  for 
them. 

"  Our  stay  cannot  bo  long,'''  said  Mr.  Judson,  "  but  its 
length  depends  upon  the  success  with  which  we  meet 
in  our  undertaking.  We  wish  to  come  to  the  Golden 
Feet  and  look  up  to  the  Golden  Face.  Can  your  high- 
ness obtain  for  us  entrance  into  his  royal  presence?  " 

"That  I  shall  be  glad  to  do.  Moung  Yo  will  conduct 
you  thither  at  the  king's  leisure.  For  the  present  you 
must  be  dismissed  as  the  unsettled  affairs  of  the  new 
monarchy  call  my  attention.  I  hope  to  grant  you 
another  audience  before  your  departure.  Moung  Yo, 
conduct  the  teachers  back  to  their  lodging  and  see  that 
their  request  is  granted.  Let  them  be  introduced  first  to 
Moung  Zah  in  the  morning,  which  will  save  them  the 
inconvenience  of  applying  to  all  the  various  officers. 
Peace  go  with  you." 

On  their  way  back  to  the  boat  where  they  made  their 
headquarters,  they  passed  the  palace  and  other  public 
works.      As  they  looked  upon  the  immense   structure 


184  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

with  its  imposing  trimmings  of  gold  glittering  in  the 
sunlight,  and  saw  the  pompous  splendor  of  the  court, 
they  thought  of  the  haughty  monarch  within,  now 
flushed  with  the  bold  success  of  placing  himself  on  the 
throne  as  absolute  monarch  of  the  land,  and  exulting 
over  a  recent  victory  in  Kathay,  which  was  to  be  cele- 
brated by  a  grand  parade  on  the  morrow.  The  country 
is  now  his  own.  The  people  are  his  slaves,  and  their 
earnings  go  to  him.  Without  his  permission  they  dare 
not  do  anything.  Will  he  grant  them  the  privilege  of 
receiving  a  new  religion?  The  task  seems  hopeless, 
yet  the  missionaries  pray  God  to  incline  his  heart. 

That  evening  Moung  Yo,  who  lived  near  the  boat, 
called  again  and  said  he  would  conduct  them  to  the 
golden  palace  the  next  morning.  They  retired  that 
night  with  the  feeling  that  to-morrow  would  be  the 
most  eventful  day  of  their  lives;  a  day  when  success 
should  be  assured,  or  all  hope  destroyed. 

True  to  his  promise,  Moung  Yo  appeared  at  the  boat 
next  morning  to  conduct  them  into  the  presence  of  his 
Majesty.  They  proceeded  first  to  the  residence  of  Mya- 
day-men,  who  informed  them  that  the  king  had  been 
notified  of  their  arrival,  and  had  given  orders  for  their 
reception  at  court.  Proceeding  then  to  the  outer  gate 
they  were  delayed  for  a  long  time  as  each  petty  officer 
must  inspect  them  and  be  assured  that  they  had  authority 
for  entering.  Having  entered  the  palace  yard  they 
deposited  a  present  for  Moung  Zah  and  were  next  shown 
to  his  pavilion  near  the  gate.  Several  governors  and 
petty  kings  were  present  to  participate  in  the  great 
parade  of  the  day.  In  his  royal  chamber  the  Great 
White  Elephant  stood  gorgeously  arrayed  in  his  trap- 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  185 

pings  of  silk  and  gold,  ready  to  step  forth  and  receive 
the  homage  of  his  votaries,  as  well  as  to  honor  the  king 
by  thus  condescending  to  appear  in  public  where  all 
eyes  could  look  upon  his  sacred  form.  War-horses  were 
pawing  in  their  stalls  as  if  impatient  to  begin  the  great 
pageant.  Soldiers  in  dazzling  livery  thronged  the 
streets,  and  gilded  barges  swarmed  the  river.  The  king 
would  shortly  appear  and  all  must  be  ready. 

Moung  Zah  received  them  very  kindly  and  seated 
them  before  the  distinguished  visitors  at  his  levee.  As 
soon  as  preliminaries  were  over  Mr.  Judson  began  at 
once  to  unfold  the  object  of  their  visit. 

"Your  excellency,"  he  began,  "in  the  great  country 
of  America  we  sustain  the  character  of  teachers  and 
explainers  of  the  contents  of  the  Sacred  Scriptures  of 
our  own  religion.  Since  it  is  taught  therein  that  if  we 
pass  to  other  countries  and  preach  and  propagate  our 
religion,  great  good  will  result,  and  both  those  who 
teach  and  those  who  receive  the  religion  will  be  freed 
from  future  punishment,  and  enjoy  without  decay  or 
death,  the  eternal  felicity  of  Heaven — that  royal  per- 
mission be  given,  that  we,  taking  refuge  in  the  royal 
power,  may  preach  our  religion  in  these  dominions,  and 
that  those  who  are  pleased  with  our  preaching,  and  wish 
to  listen  to  and  be  guided  by  it,  whether  foreigners  or 
Burmans,  may  be  exempt  from  government  molesta- 
tion, they  present  themselves  to  receive  the  favor  of  the 
excellent  king,  the  sovereign  of  land  and  sea.  May  it 
please  your  highness  to  present  to  his  majesty  our  peti- 
tion, this  tract  setting  forth  the  principles  of  our  teach- 
ing, and  also  beg  him  to  receive  from  his  humble  ser- 
vants this  book  containing  the  Word  of  our  God  to  his 
people  ?" 


186  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  describe  the  feelings  of 
Moung  Zah  as  he  listened  to  this  speech.  He  thought 
of  the  past  when  he  had  stood  by  the  king,  now  dead, 
and  heard  him  denounce  his  own  son.  The  present 
king  was  even  more  opposed  to  heresies  against  the 
established  faith,  and  what  could  he  hope  for  these? 

He  was  also  joyous  to  know  that  there  was,  in  reality, 
a  God,  and  longed  more  than  ever  for  Prince  Mekara. 
Then  the  rightful  king  would  sit  on  the  throne  dispens- 
ing justice  to  all,  and  he  could  also  learn  of  the  true 
God,  the  object  of  his  search ;  then  these  teachers  could 
be  tolerated  and  the  minister  himself  could  learn  of 
them.  He  was  truly  desirous  of  knowing  the  truth, 
but  feared  the  consequences,  as  was  evinced  by  his 
chicken-hearted  manner  at  the  trial  of  Mekara.  Reach- 
ing forth  his  hand  he  received  the  petition  and  read  it 
about  half  through ;  but  his  mind  was  on  a  more  im- 
portant subject  to  him.  He  dared  not  show,  in  the 
presence  of  his  officers,  any  interest  more  than  his  offi- 
cial duties  demanded.  Assuming  a  careless  manner, 
he  asked,  as  if  by  way  of  conversation : 

"  Who  is  your  God?  We  in  Burmah  know  of  no  such 
being. " 

"God,"  replied  Mr.  Judson,  "is  an  Allwise,  Eternal 
Being,  without  beginning  or  end,  by  whom  we  live,  and 
by  whom  all  things  were  created." 

"  Well,  what  is  it  you  would  teach  our  people  to  do, 
once  having  learned  of  God?" 

"  I  would  teach  them  their  duty  as  revealed  in  His 
Holy  Word,  the  necessity  of  giving  up  all  to  worship 
Him,  and  teach  them  to  pray  to  Him  for  a  new  heart, 
and  a  true  conception  of  Himself." 


THE   CHILD    OF    THE    GANGES.  187 

Doubtless  the  minister  would  have  gladly  inquired 
further,  but  at  this  point  a  royal  fore-runner  appeared, 
crying : 

a  The  Golden  Foot  is  about  to  advance.  Make  ready 
to  meet  him!  " 

Hastily  rising,  Moung  Zah  drew  on  his  robes  of  state 
saying:  "  I  must  seize  this  opportunity  as  the  king 
passes,  to  present  you  to  him.  But  how  can  you  hope 
to  propagate  your  religion  in  this  empire?  All  foreigners 
are  allowed  the  free  exercise  of  their  own  religion,  but 
a  native  can  never  depart  from  the  belief  of  the  king." 

He  now  hastily  conducted  them  from  his  own  pavilion 
to  the  audience  chamber  of  the  palace,  closely  followed 
by  Moung  Yo,  who  bore  the  precious  books  to  be  pre- 
sented to  his  majesty.  Such  imposing  splendor,  such 
sickening  magnificence,  they  had  never  before  seen. 
Passing  through  the  long  avenue  of  gold-covered  pillars, 
they  stood  in  the  vast  rotunda  beneath  the  lofty  dome, 
on  the  very  spot  where  the  disobedient  prince  had 
received  his  doom.  The  majesty  of  the  place  itself 
was  sufficient  to  awe  one  to  silence.  Only  a  few  great 
officers  of  state  were  present,  seated  in  their  respective 
places.  Moung  Zah  directed  them  where  to  sit,  then 
took  his  seat  on  one  side,  Moung  Yo  sitting  behind  the 
gilded  present  on  the  other.  A  few  minutes  of  silence 
then  Moung  Yo  whispered,  "  His  majesty  has  entered." 
Instantly  every  one  except  the  two  missionaries  dropped 
with  their  faces  to  the  floor ;  they  waited  on  their  knees. 
Presently  a  distant  ring  of  golden  sandals  was  heard 
on  the  marble  pavement;  nearer,  steady,  measured, 
each  approaching  footstep  caused  their  hearts  to  trem- 
ble.    His  magnificent  form  was  richly  dressed,  and  he 


188  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

carried  in  his  hand  the  jewel-hilted  sword.  How  like 
his  grand  father  as  he  appeared  on  a  former  occasion ! 
Will  his  decision  be  as  harsh?  His  high  aspect  and 
noble,  commanding  eye  riveted  the  attention  of  all  who 
dared  to  look  upon  his  countenance.  He  strided  on, 
careless  of  surrounding  objects,  till  he  saw  the  mis- 
sionaries at  his  feet.  Looking  down  with  some  surprise 
and  curiosity,  he  turned  toward  Moung  Zah  and  asked : 

"Who  are  these?" 

"The  teachers,  great  king,"  replied  Mr.  Judson. 

His  majestj'  was  astonished. 

"  What,  you  speak  Burman — the  priests  I  heard  of 
last  night  from  Mya-day-men?  " 

"  We  are  the  same,  O  king.  The  noble  Mya-day-men 
knew  me  in  Rangoon." 

"  When  did  you  arrive?  " 

"  On  the  evening  before  the  last  we  first  saw  the 
imperial  city  and  the  towers  of    the  golden  palace." 

11  Are  you  teachers  of  religion?  " 

"  That  is  our  occupation,  and  for  that  we  came  into 
the  country  of  the  great  king." 

"Are  you  like  the  Portuguese  priests?" 

"We  are  not.  Our  religion  knows  no  priests,  for  it 
has  no  ritual." 

"  Are  you  married?  " 

"We  have  companions  each,  who  await  us  at  Ran- 
goon." 

"  Why  do  you  dress  so?  " 

"  It  is  merely  the  custom  of  our  country." 

"  What  do  you  desire  at  the  hands  of  the  Golden 
Face?" 

"  The  petition  we  bring  will  answer  that  question  of 
the  king." 


THE    CHILD    OE    THE    GANGES.  189 

Moung  Zah  now  lifted  his  head  from  the  floor  and 
read,  while  the  king  took  his  seat  on  the  divan,  his 
hand  resting  on  the  hilt  of  his  sword,  and  his  eyes 
fixed  on  the  strangers,  though  not  with  displeasure. 
Having  heard  the  petition  he  reached  forth  his  hand. 
Moung  Zah  crawled  forward  and  presented  it.  The 
king  read  it  through  deliberately  from  beginning  to 
end,  then  returned  it  in  silence.  While  he  was  readiug 
Moung  Zah  received  the  tract  from  Mr.  Judson  and 
presented  it  next.  With  beating  hearts  they  awaited 
the  issue.  "  O  God,  display  now  thy  grace  !  Have  mercy 
on  Burmah.  Have  mercy  on  her  king."  Slowly  opening 
the  handsome  cover,  the  king  read  the  first  few  lines : 

"  There  is  one  Being  who  exists  eternally  ;  who  is  exempt 
from  sickness,  old  age  and  death  ;  who  was,  and  is,  and  will 
be,  without  beginning  and  without  end.  Besides  this  the  true 
God,  there  is  no  other  God.'' 

He  read  no  further,  but  with  contempt  in  his  manner 
dashed  it  to  his  feet.  Moung  Zah  picked ,  it  up  and 
returned  it  to  the  teachers.  Moung  Yo  now  unfolded 
one  of  the  volumes  by  his  side  and  displayed  its  beauty. 
The  Golden  Face  never  even  glanced  at  it.  Though  he 
spoke  not  a  word,  they  realized  that  their  fate  was  sealed. 
After  a  few  moments  Moung  Zah  interpreted  the  royal 
master's  silence. 

"  Why  do  you  ask  for  such  permission  ?  Have  not 
the  Portuguese,  the  English,  the  Mussulmans,  and  peo- 
ple of  other  religions,  full  liberty  to  practice  and  wor- 
ship according  to  their  own  customs  ?  In  regard  to  the 
objects  of  your  petition,  his  majesty  gives  no  order. 
In  regard  to  your  sacred  books,  his  majesty  has  no  use 
for  them — take  them  away." 


190  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

Moung  Yo  ventured  to  remark  something  about  Mr. 
Colman's  skill  in  medicine.  The  royal  countenance 
turned  indifferently  toward  the  silent  teacher;  the 
Golden  Mouth  opening,  said: 

"  Let  them  proceed  to  the  residence  of  my  physician, 
the  Portuguese  priest,  let  him  examine  whether  they 
can  be  useful  to  me  in  that  line  and  report  accord- 
ingly." 

The  martial  music  was  now  heard  without,  and  the 
shouts  of  the  victors  proclaimed  the  approach  of  the 
procession.  Rising,  his  majesty  moved  proudly  and 
coldly  away  toward  the  end  of  the  hall.  Throwing  him- 
self down  on  a  cushion  by  a  window  overlooking  the 
palace-court,  he  lay  listening  to  the  music  and  watch- 
ing the  glittering  pageant  below.  He  had  heard  for  the 
first  time  of  a  God  who  made  him,  and  who  would  judge 
him.  The  knowledge  had  been  displeasing  to  him  and 
he  had  trampled  it  under  foot. 

The  attendants  were  frightened.  These  strangers 
had  come  here  and  evoked  the  frown  of  the  Golden  Face. 
What  might  be  the  consequence  ?  Hastily  gathering 
together  the  books  and  tracts,  they  quickly  conducted 
them  to  the  gates,  lest  the  smoking  fire  of  the  king's 
displeasure  should  burst  into  a  flame.  They  were  car- 
ried first,  according  to  the  royal  commandment,  to  the 
Portuguese  priest,  who,  of  course,  not  relishing  the  idea 
of  a  rival  for  royal  favor,  as  a  consequence,  found  no 
good  in  Mr.  Colman's  skill.  Wearied  with  the  dust  and 
heat  of  the  two  miles  which  they  had  traveled  coming 
to  his  house,  and  disheartened  by  their  repulse  at  the 
palace,  they  retreated  to  their  boat  to  remain  for  the 
dav. 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  101 

Unwilling  yet  to  relinquish  all  hope,  and  thinking 
that  they  had  detected  some  show  of  favor  in  the  con- 
duct of  Moung  Zah,  who  was  second  in  power  only  to 
the  king  himself,  they  determined  to  visit  him  again  the 
next  morning.  The  minister  fearing  to  receive  with  favor 
those  who  had  incurred  royal  displeasure,  assumed  an 
unusual  coldness  and  reserve.  He  assured  them  that 
it  was  utterly  out  of  the  question  as  to  whether  Bur- 
mans  should  be  allowed  to  embrace  a  new  religion ;  pun- 
ishment was  inevitable.  He  afterwards  received,  a 
tract  and  read  it  through ;  then,  instead  of  throwing  it 
down  as  the  king  had  done,  he  handed  it  to  one  of  his 
attendants  to  keep.  Perhaps  th3  poor  soul  may  read 
the  God-sent  message  alone,  and  yet  find  the  knowledge 
of  the  true  God.     He  then  turned  and  replied : 

"  The  doctrines  and  commands  are  very  good,  but  it 
will  be  a  long  time  before  Burmans  can  be  convinced 
that  there  is  a  God  and  a  Saviour." 

An  English  officer  who  had  shown  them  great  kind- 
ness was,  in  the  meantime,  summoned  to  the  palace  to 
tell  what  he  knew  in  regard  to  the  teachers.  The  Eng- 
lishman replied  at  length,  dwelling  on  the  country,  the 
character,  and  object  of  the  missionaries,  trying  to  vin- 
dicate them  as  much  as  possible. 

"  I  have  been  told  quite  differently,"  said  his 
majesty.  "  The  Portuguese  priest  informed  me  that 
they  were  a  sect  of  Zandees,  a  race  that  have  been  of  so 
much  trouble  to  our  empire." 

"  I  beseech  your  majesty  to  believe  nothing  of  the 
kind,"  replied  the  other  warmly.  "  They  are  true  teach- 
ers and  only  desire  to  labor  in  peace." 


192         THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

"  Enough  of  them,"  said  the  king.  Then  laugh- 
ing scornfully,  he  said :  "  What,  they  have  come  over 
here  presuming  to  convert  us  to  their  religion!  Let 
them  leave  our  capital.  We  have  no  desire  to  receive 
their  instructions.  Perhaps  they  may  find  some  of  their 
countrymen  in  Rangoon  who  may  be  willing  to  listen 
to  them." 

With  heavy  hearts  the  missionaries  turned  their 
backs  on  the  Golden  City.  The  last  remaining  hope 
was  blasted,  and  the  little  mission  must  be  abandoned 
just  as  they  were  beginning  to  succeed.  So  thought 
they  in  the  gloom  of  their  disappointment. 


\Ndbv 


/ 


CHAPTER  VII. 


"  Judge  not  the  Lord  by  feeble  sense, 
But  trust  Him  for  his  grace  ; 

Behind  a  frowning  providence 
He  hides  a  smiling  face.'' 


Cowper. 


The  city  of  Pyee,  once  the  seat  of  a  former  dynasty, 
is  an  important  place  some  two  hundred  and  thirty 
miles  below  Ava.  On  the  evening  of  the  sixth  day 
after  their  departure  from  the  imperial  city,  the  mis- 
sionaries landed  here  where  they  spent  the  night,  hav- 
ing, of  course,  traveled  much  more  rapidly  down  the 
river  than  during  their  ascent.  Just  at  night  a  man 
appeared  at  the  boat  and  asked  to  see  the  teachers. 
Mr.  Judson  sent  word  for  him  to  be  conducted  on 
board  to  his  little  room.  When  the  visitor  appeared  at 
the  door,  where  the  dim  rays  of  the  cocoa-nut  lamp  fell 
on  him,  they  were  astonished  to  see  it  was  Moung 
Shwa  gnong. 

"Why,  teacher,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Judson,  in  surprise 
and  alarm,  "what  are  you  doing  here?  Has  the  mis- 
sion been  scattered?  " 

"  No,  Tsa-yah,  the  mission  is  as  you  left  it.  I  was 
summoned  here  to  see  a  friend  who  is  very  sick,  and 
will  return  soon.  I  would  be  glad  to  rccompany  you 
back  if  you  can  wait  a  day  or  two." 

"We  cannot  wait,"  replied  Mr.  Judson,  "as  we  must 
hasten  to  bear  the  report  of  our  expedition  to  the  dis- 
ciples at  Rangoon." 

13  (193) 


194  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

"  May  I  ask  what  success  you  met  with  at  the  Golden 
City?" 

"  Ah,"  Mr.  Judson  replied  sadly,  "  it  was  worse  than 
no  success.  The  king  gave  no  answer  to  our  petition, 
refused  our  present  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  dashed 
our  tract  to  the  ground.  We  were  told  that  it  would 
be  impossible  for  any  who  embraced  our  religion  to 
escape  punishment  and  perhaps  death.  We  also  heard 
an  incident  of  a  man  who  renounced  the  religion  of 
Buddha,  and  whose  fate  was  a  sign  to  us  of  what  might 
follow  others  from  the  effect  of  our  teachings.  The 
man  embraced  the  Catholic  faith,  and  the  Emperor 
hearing  of  it,  ordered  that  he  should  be  compelled  to 
recant.  He  was  thrown  into  prison  and  inflicted  with 
continual  torture.  At  length,  finding  him  unsubdued? 
they  had  recourse  to  the  iron  mall.  He  was  laid  upon 
his  back,  and  with  heavy  blows,  beginning  with  his 
feet,  they  gradually  beat  his  body  almost  to  a  pulp, 
inch  by  inch,  up  to  his  breast.  He  still  pronounced 
the  name  of  Jesus,  and  when  at  the  point  of  death, 
some  who  pitied  him  reported  to  the  Emperor  that  he 
was  merely  a  poor  madman  who  knew  not  what  he  was 
doing,  and  procured  orders  for  his  release,  but  he  after- 
wards died  of  his  injuries.  Such  must  be  expected 
now  and  more,  for  that  took  place  under  the  rule  of  the 
former  king,  who  himself  had  become  a  violent  hater 
of  Buddhism,  and  the  present  ruler  will  use  more  rigid 
means  to  uphold  the  religion  he  loves." 

"I  think,  teacher,  we  should  not  be  intimidated  by 
these  things,"  replied  he,  "  for  if  God  is  for  us  He  will 
yet  open  a  way." 


THE    CHILD    OF    TPIE    GANGES.  105 

Mr.  Judson  was  surprised  to  see  his  confident  air  and 
seeming  fearlessness,  but  he  yet  doubted  his  sincerity, 
since  it  was  reported  that  he  had  recanted  to  the  Man- 
gen  teacher  at  Rangoon  and  still  worshiped  at  pagodas. 
He  had  never  declared  himself  a  disciple,  because  his 
high  position  would  cause  attention  to  be  attracted  to 
him  immediately.     Mr.  Judson  replied: 

"  It  is  not  for  you  that  we  are  concerned,  but  for  those 
who  have  already  become  disciples.  They  could  not  wor- 
ship at  pagodas,  or  recant  before  the  Mangen  teacher." 

He  saw  the  hint  and  tried  to  explain  his  conduct. 

"  Say  nothing,"  said  Mr.  Judson.  "  One  thing  you 
know  to  be  true — that  when  formerly  accused,  if  you 
had  not  in  some  way  or  other  satisfied  the  Mangen 
teacher,  your  life  would  not  now  be  remaining  in  your 
body." 

"  Then  if  I  die,  I  die  in  a  good  cause,"  said  he,  "  for 
I  know  it  to  be  the  cause  of  truth.  My  faith  has  been 
growing.  I  now  believe  in  the  eternal  God,  in  His  Son, 
Jesus  Christ,  in  the  atonement  which  Christ  has  made, 
and  in  the  writings  of  the  apostles,  as  the  true  and  only 
word  of  God.  In  one  of  my  last  visits  you  told  me  I 
was  trusting  in  my  own  understanding  rather  than  the 
divine  word.  From  that  time  I  have  seen  my  error  and 
endeavored  to  renounce  it.  You  also  explained  to  me 
the  evil  of  worshiping  at  pagodas,  though  I  told  you 
my  heart  did  not  partake  in  the  worship.  Since  jrou 
left  Rangoon  I  have  not  lifted  up  folded  hands  before 
a  pagoda.  It  is  true,  I  sometimes  follow  the  crowd  on 
days  of  worship  in  order  to  avoid  persecution ;  but  I 
walk  up  one  side  of  the  pagoda  and  down  the  other. 
Now,  you  say  I  am  not  a  disciple.     What  lack  I  yet?  " 


196  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

"Teacher,"  replied  Mr.  Judson  somewhat  relieved, 
"you  may  be  a  disciple  of  Christ  in  heart,  but  you  are 
not  a  full  disciple.  You  have  not  faith  and  resolution 
enough  to  keep  all  the  commandments  of  Christ,  par- 
ticularly that  which  requires  you  to  be  baptized,  though 
in  the  face  of  persecution  and  death.  Consider  the 
words  of  Jesus,  just  before  he  returned  to  Heaven,  'He 
that  believeth  and  is  baptized  shall  be  saved.", 

This  thought  impressed  him  seriously,  and  he  remained 
for  some  moments  in  silence. 

"  I  am  sorry  for  those  poor  disciples  that  shall  be 
left,"  said  Mr.  Judson,  "  for  it  is  well  that  we  leave  the 
country  since  no  others  will  dare  to  embrace  bur  reli- 
gion, having  heard  the  king's  decision." 

Moung  Shwa  gnong  was  deeply  aroused  at  this  inti- 
mation, and,  for  the  first  time,  showed  the  real  interest 
he  felt. 

"  Say  not  so,"  he  said,  "  there  are  some  who  will 
investigate,  notwithstanding;  and  rather  than  have 
you  quit  Rangoon,  I  will  go  myself  to  the  Mangen 
teacher,  and  have  a  public  dispute.  I  know  I  can 
silence  him.     I  know  the  truth  is  on  my  side." 

"  Ah,"  said  Mr.  Judson,  "  you  may  have  a  tongue  to 
silence  him,  but  he  has  a  pair  of  fetters  and  an  iron 
mall  to  tame  you.     Remember  that.  " 

Towards  midnight  Moung  Shwa  gnong  departed,  and 
they  retired  to  rest  for  to-morrow's  journey;  yet  the 
thought  of  how  their  failure  could  effect  the  mission 
kept  them  awake  most  of  the  night.  Six  days  after- 
ward they  arrived  in  Rangoon. 

They  had  already  formed  the  determination  of 
removing  the  mission  to  Chittagong,  where,  under  the 


THE   CHILD   OF   THE   GANGES.  197 

protection  of  the  British,  they  could  still  preach  to  a 
Burmese-speaking  people.  Gathering  the  converts 
together,  the  details  of  the  whole  of  the  expedition 
were  gone  over.  Mr.  Judson  related  their  failure  fully, 
pictured  the  persecutions  that  would  be  brought  on  the 
people  by  a  further  propagation  of  the  gospel  in  Bur- 
mah,  and  announced  his  reluctant  determination  to 
leave  them.  It  was  a  cruel  test  for  those  so  recently 
born  again,  but  the  true  Christian  principle  manifested 
itself  in  every  one  of  them.  Surrounding  him  they 
cried,  to  a  man,  that  they  were  ready  to  suffer  persecu- 
tion and  even  death,  rather  than  renounce  their  religion. 

"  Stay,"  they  pleaded,  "until  a  little  church  of  ten  is 
collected  and  a  native  teacher  is  set  over  it ;  and,  then, 
if  you  must  go,  we  will  not  say  nay.  This  religion  will 
spread  of  itself.     The  Emperor  can  not  stop  it." 

The  teacher's  heart  was  too  full  for  utterance  as  he 
heard  this  demonstration  of  heroism  and  devotion  on 
the  part  of  the  disciples.  Recovering  himself,  he  told 
them  of  his  gratitude  to  God  for  their  trust,  and  prom- 
ised not  to  leave  as  long  as  one  held  out  faithful. 

They  decided,  however,  that  Mr.  Colman  and  his 
wife  should  proceed  to  Chittagong,  and  gathering 
together  the  scattered  converts,  reorganize  them,  and 
prepare  there  ah  asylum  for  the  teachers  and  disciples  in 
Burmah  when  persecution  should  break  out. 

Mr.  Judson  and  his  wife  were  now  left  once  more 
alone,  in  this  the  darkest  hour  of  their  experience,  yet 
the  Lord  worked  mightily  in  the  hearts  of  the  Burmans, 
and  the  little  church  grew  rapidly,  though  in  the  very 
face  of  persecution.  Mrs.  Judson  had  a  daily  class  of 
women  whom  she  taught  among  whom  was  Mah-Men-la, 


198  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

a  very  talented  woman,  who  seemed  to  be  making  great 
progress  towards  the  knowledge  of  the  true  God.  At 
length,  worn  out  with  excessive  labor  and  anxiety,  Mrs. 
Judson's  health  gave  way,  and  Mr.  Judson  was  compelled 
to  accompany  her  to  Bengal. 

After  having  arranged  for  the  voyage,  several  inqui- 
rers who  had  not  yet  professed  Christ,  came  and 
demanded  baptism  before  they  should  leave,  for  fear 
that  Mr.  Judson  might  never  return.  He  examined 
them,  and  rinding  them  firm  in  the  faith,  promised  to 
baptize  them  in  the  evening.  In  the  mean  time  Moung 
Shwa  gnong  came  in.  He  stayed  all  day,  and  by  a 
relation  of  his  mental  trials,  and  strivings  with  sin,  he 
convinced  Mr.  Judson  that  he  was  truly  a  disciple. 
Others  came  during  the  day,  and  as  evening  approached 
Moung  Shwa  gnong  became  much  interested  and 
addressed  himself  to  the  teacher. 

"My  lord,  teacher,  there  are  now  several  of  us  present 
who  have  long  considered  this  religion.  I  hope  that 
we  are  all  believers  in  Jesus  Christ." 

"  I  am  afraid  to  say  that,"  said  Mr.  Judson.  "  How- 
ever, it  is  easily  ascertained ;  and  let  me  begin  with 
you,  teacher.  I  have  heretofore  thought  that  you  fully 
believed  in  an  eternal  God;  but  I  have  some  doubt 
whether  you  fully  believe  in  the  Son  of  God,  and  the 
atonement  He  has  made." 

"  I  assure  you,"  he  replied,  "  I  am  as  fully  persuaded 
of  the  latter  as  of  the  former." 

"  Do  you  believe,  then,  that  none  but  disciples  of 
Christ  will  be  saved  from  sin  and  hell?  " 

"  None  but  His  disciples." 


THE   CHILD   OF   THE   GANGES.  199 

"  How,  then,  can  you  remain  without  taking  the  oath 
of  allegiance  to  Jesus  Christ,  and  becoming  his  full 
disciple  in  body  and  soul?  " 

"  It  is  my  earnest  desire  to  do  so  by  receiving  bap- 
tism; and  for  the  very  purpose  of  expressing  that 
desire  I  have  come  here  to-day." 

"You  say  you  are  desirous  of  receiving  baptism. 
May  I  ask  when  you  desire  to  receive  it?  " 

"  At  any  time  you  will  please  to  give  it.  Now — this 
moment,  if  you  please." 

"Do  you  wish  to  receive  baptism  in  public  or  in 
private?  " 

"  I  will  receive  it  at  any  rime,  and  in  any  circum- 
stances, that  you  may  direct.' 

"  Teacher,"  now  replied  Mr.  Judson,  "  I  am  satisfied, 
from  your  conversation  this  forenoon,  that  you  are  a 
true  disciple,  and  I  reply,  therefore,  I  am  as  desirous 
of  giving  you  baptism  as  you  are  of  receiving  it." 

The  disciples  rejoiced,  and  the  others  were  astonished, 
at  this  candid  confession  of  the  hitherto  proud  teacher; 
for,  though  they  believed  him  a  Christian  they  did  not 
think  such  a  man  would  ever  confess  it,  or  consent  to 
baptism  by  a  foreigner. 

It  was  a  happy,  though  solemn  scene  as  Mr.  Judson 
led  his  little  band  at  twilight  to  the  accustomed  pool, 
and  in  the  silence  of  evening,  baptized  them  into  the 
name  of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost.  Mah-Men-la 
was  in  the  room  with  Mrs.  Judson  when  she  saw  the 
teacher  going  to  be  baptized. 

"  Ah,"  she  cried,  "  he  has  gone  to  obey  the  command 
of  Jesus  Christ,  while  I  remain  without  obeying.  I 
shall  not  be  able  to  sleep  this  night.  I  must  go  home 
and  consult  my  husband  and  return." 


200  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

That  niglit  the  returned,  related  her  experience  and 
demanded  baptism.  They  received  her  gladly,  and  it 
being  very  late,  she  was  baptized  in  a  pond  near  the 
house,  by  moonlight.  Thus  the  first  female  was  added 
to  the  church,  which  now  numbered  ten. 

On  the  morrow  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Judson  departed  for 
Bengal. 

After  a  happy  visit  of  six  months  at  Calcutta,  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Judson  returned  to  Rangoon,  Mrs.  Judson 
having  fully  recovered  her  health.  As  the  ship  drew 
near  the  city  they  strained  their  eyes  to  see  if  any  of 
their  friends  were  at  the  whan  The  first  they  saw 
was  Moung  Shwa  gnong  who  stood  with  his  hands  shad- 
ing his  eyes,  watching  the  deck.  Mah-Men-la  and  others 
met  them  when  they  landed,  and  several  gathered 
around  them  that  night  at  the  mission  house.  Their 
evening  prayer  was  full  of  gratitude  and  praise,  for  not 
one  had  disgraced  his  calling,  though  many  had  suf- 
fered extortions  from  petty  officers  till  forced  to  flee  to 
the  woods. 

Things  were  now  more  hopeful.  Mya-c1  ay-men  was 
once  more  made  Viceroy  of  Rangoon.  Those  who  had 
accused  Moung  Shwa  gnong  to  the  former  Viceroy, 
formed  a  conspiracy  to  destroy  him.  They  met  in  daily 
consultation  and  assuming  a  triumphant  manner,  made 
it  appear  io  poor  Moung  Shwa  gnong  that  his  fate  was 
decided,  and  he  was  almost  on  the  point  of  fleeing  for 
his  life.  One  of  the  conspirators  going  to  the  Viceroy 
accused  the  teacher,  Moung  Shwa  gnong,  of  endeavoring 
to  "  turn  the  priests'  rice-pot  bottom  upwards."  Mya- 
day-men  only  replied,  "  What  consequence?     Let  the 


THE   CHILD   OP   THE    GANGES.  201 

priests  turn  it  back  again."  That  sentence  destroyed 
the  conspiracy,  and  gave  the  disciples  hope  so  long  as 
Mya-day-men  should  hold  his  administration. 

During  the  succeeding  period  of  peaceful  prosperity, 
Moung  Ing  returned  from  his  long  voyage,  much  worse 
physically  from  wear  and  exposure,  but  retaining  in 
his  heart  the  precious  truth  that  he  had  imbibed  before 
departing,  being  the  second  Burman  to  whom  God 
revealed  Himself  in  saving  grace.  Stopping  at  a  river- 
side town  on  their  way  in,  he  had  showed  his  precious 
copy  of  Matthew  to  a  Catholic  priest,  who  immediately 
consigned  it  to  the  flames,  giving,  instead,  one  of  his 
own  heretical  pamphlets.  Yet,  through  all  difficulties, 
he  had  remained  steadfast  to  his  principles,  and  now 
only  desired  to  be  one  of  the  disciples  and  be  with  the 
teachers  always.  His  request  for  baptism  was  gladly 
granted,  and  he  was  added  to  the  fold.  *  A  happy  day 
was  that  for  Burmah ;  though,  seemingly,  but  a  poor 
fisherman,  his  light  shall  burn  the  longest  of  any,  and 
his  services  shall  be  more  for  the  general  good  than  all 
who  were  converted  before. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"Go  Spirit,  go  Thy  way, 
Some  more  convenient  day 
On  Thee  I'll  call." 

—P.  P.  Bliss. 

More  than  three  years  have  passed  since  Moung  Zah 
returned  to  the  disappointed  missionaries  the  golden- 
covered  Bible.  Now  again  the  gilded  doors  are  ajar 
and  two  strangers  kneel  at  the  Golden  Feet. 

Mrs.  Judson's  health  having  failed  again,  she  was 
compelled  to  take  a  voyage  to  America,  leaving  Mr. 
Judson  alone.  During  this  time  Dr.  Price  had  arrived, 
and  being  very  successful  in  his  profession,  a  knowledge 
of  his  skill  had  reached  the  Golden  Ears  and  he  was 
summoned  to  the  king's  palace.  As  he  was  unacquainted 
with  the  language,  Mr.  Judson  accompanied  him  as 
interpreter,  leaving  the  mission  in  charge  of  Mr.  Hough 
who  had  returned  to  Rangoon. 

The  Golden  Face  was  pleased  with  Dr.  Price ;  received 
him  graciously  and  inquired  many  things  of  him  in 
regard  to  his  profession,  but  took  no  notice  of  his  com- 
panion except  as  interpreter.  Moung  Zah  recognized 
the  teacher,  however,  and  asked  him  kindly  about  his 
welfare  in  the  presence  of  the  king.  After  the  inter- 
view was  over,  and  his  majesty  had  retired,  the  minis- 
ter drew  Mr.  Judson  into  conversation  on  religious 
topics,  and  gave  him  some  confidential  encouragement 

to  remain  at  Ava. 

(202) 


THE  CHILD  OP  THE  GANGES.  203 

Several  days  after,  during  an  interview,  the  king 
noticed  Mr.  Judson  for  the  first  time,  though  he  had 
been  present  nearly  every  day  with  Dr.  Price.  Turning 
he  asked : 

"  And  you  in  black,  what  are  you?  A  medical  man, 
too?  " 

"Not  a  medical  man,  but  a  teacher  of  religion,  your 
majesty." 

"  What  is  the  nature  of  your  religion?  What  does 
it  teach?  " 

"  It  is  a  religion  of  the  heart,  treating  of  God  and 
His  relations  to  mankind,  and  their  duties  toward  him." 

"Whence  did  you  come  bringing  your  teachings  here?  " 

"  From  America,  your  majesty." 

"  Have  any  embraced  your  religion  yet?" 

"  Not  here." 

"  Are  there  any  in  Rangoon?  " 

"  There  are  a  few." 

"  Are  they  foreigners?  " 

The  teacher  hesitated  for  a  moment,  fearing  to  give 
an  answer  that  would  involve  his  friends  in  ruin,  but 
the  truth  must  be  told.  Further  evasion  was  impos- 
sible.    So  he  replied. 

"  There  are  some  foreigners  and  some  Burmans." 

His  majesty  remained  in  silence  for  a  few  moments, 
but  the  expected  look  of  displeasure  did  not  visit  his 
countenance.  Presently  he  asked  a  great  many  ques- 
tions in  regard  to  religion,  geography,  astronomy,  &c, 
all  of  which  were  answered  in  such  a  satisfactory 
manner  as  to  elicit  the  admiration  of  all.  His  majesty 
presently  retired  as  usual,  after  which  a  royal  secretary 
asked  some  questions  and  drew  the  teacher  into  one  of 
his  accustomed  dissertations  on  religion,  as  if  he  was 


204         THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

in  his  own  little  zayat  and  not  in  the  palace  of  the 
most  haughty  monarch  of  the  world. 

Great  was  the  encouragement  of  that  day,  the  king 
had  heard  of  his  subjects  renouncing  Buddhism  and 
was  not  displeased ! 

Mr.  Judson  now  found  himself  in  great  favor  at 
court.  The  king  gave  to  him  and  Dr.  Price  a  spot  of 
ground,  and  had  them  a  temporary  house  erected,  into 
which  they  moved  from  the  boat.  The  restraint  from 
fear  of  the  king's  anger  being  now  removed,  Mr.  Judson 
was  often  sent  for  by  the  high  ministers  of  state  to 
converse  on  science  and  religion.  The  a-twen-woon, 
Moung  Zah,  now  became  openly  interested  and  improved 
every  opportunity  of  informing  himself  in  regard  to 
the  new  religion. 

Joining  the  house  which  the  king  had  erected  for  the 
missionaries,  and  near  the  palace,  was  the  handsome 
residence  of  Prince  M.,  eldest  half  brother  to  the  king. 
The  prince  is  a  fine  young  man  of  more  than  usual 
intelligence,  but  disabled  in  his  arms  and  legs  from  the 
effects  of  a  paralytic  stroke.  Being  deprived  of  the 
common  sources  of  enjoyment,  he  had  devoted  much 
time  to  literature,  and  his  associations  with  Portuguese 
teachers  had  developed  in  him  a  strong  taste  for  the 
sciences.  Having  once  seen  Mr.  Judson  in  company 
with  Dr.  Price,  whom  he  had  called  for  medical  assis- 
tance, he  afterwards  sent  for  him,  and  entered  into  an 
interesting  conversation.  He  was  much  pleased  with 
Mr.  Judson's  communications,  and  admired  his  under- 
standing of  the  sciences,  but  he  sought  more  for  enter- 
tainment in  his  inquiries  concerning  the  Christian  reli- 
gion than  for  any  personal  good.  He  received  a  tract 
very  thankfully,  and  when  asked  if  Burman  converts 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.         205 

would  be  subjected  to  persecutions  under  government, 
replied : 

11  Not  under  the  reign  of  my  brother.  He  has  a  good 
heart,  and  wishes  all  to  believe  and  worship  as  thev 
please." 

Soon  after,  while  Mr.  Judson  was  conversing  with 
Moung  Zah  in  the  palace,  his  majesty  came  forward 
and  again  honored  him  with  a  personal  recognition, 
inquired  many  things  concerning  his  country,  and 
authorized  him  to  invite  American  ships  to  his  territories 
with  the  assurance  of  protection  and  facilities  for  trade. 

Prince  M.,  who  had  formed  such  an  attachment  for 
Mr.  Judson  that  he  could  not  bear  to  be  long  out  of  his 
presence,  sent  for  him  often,  and,  in  company  with  his 
wife,  derived  much  pleasure  from  their  intercourse. 
One  day  Mr.  Judson  made  a  full  disclosure  of  his  pur- 
pose in  coming  to  Burmah,  his  former  repulse  at  the 
court,  and  the  persecution  of  Moung  Shwa  gnong,  and 
many  of  their  trials  in  establishing  the  truth  in  Ran- 
goon. They  both  listened  with  great  feeling,  and  mani- 
fested their  interest  in  such  a  way  as  to  insure  him  of 
their  sympathy. 

Mr.  Judson  now  thought  it  a  good  time  to  press  upon 
the  prince  the  necessity  of  his  own  change  of  heart, 
and  a  view  of  his  personal  danger  in  living  without 
Christ.  He  urged  him  to  make  the  Christian  religion 
an  object  of  immediate  concern. 

Like  many  others  before  him,  the  prince  hesitated 
for  a  moment,  weighing  the  convictions  of  his  heart 
with  his  worldly  ambitions.  After  a  monent  of  silence 
he  replied: 

"  I  am  yet  young — only  twenty-eight.  I  am  desirous 
of  studying  all  the  foreign  arts  and  sciences.     My  mind 


206  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

will  then  be  enlarged,  and  I  shall  be  capable  of  judging 
whether  the  Christian  religion  be  true  or  not." 

"  But  suppose  your  highness  changes  worlds  in  tho 
meantime  ?"  urged  Mr.  Judson. 

His  countenance  fell  as  he  glanced  at  his  emaciated 
limbs. 

"  It  is  true,"  he  said  sadly.  "  I  know  not  when  I 
shall  die." 

"  My  lord,  it  would  be  so  much  better  to  pray  to  God 
for  enlightenment,  when  his  divine  Spirit  will  enable 
you  to  distinguish  between  truth  and  falsehood  in  this 
great  realm  of  investigation  where  the  arts  and  sciences 
of  man  never  reach.  I  beseech  you,  think  of  this  more 
seriously."     And  he  departed. 

One  day  he  was  in  the  palace  in  company  with  two 
Englishmen,  when  the  king  attracted  by  the  unusual 
number  of  three  foreigners  at  once,  approached  the 
company  but  directed  his  attention  chiefly  to  Mr.  Judson. 

"  Teacher,"  he  said,  "  I  wish  to  know  about  those  Bur- 
mans  who  have  embraced  your  religion  in  Rangoon. 
Are  they  real  Burmans?" 

"  The  same  as  all  other  Burmans  I  have  seen,  your 
majesty,"  replied  Mr.  Judson,  now  without  fear,  for  the 
king's  inquiry  had  expressed  more  of  surprise  than  dis- 
pleasure, that  a  Burman  should  be  induced  to  give  up 
his  religion. 

"  Do  they  dress  like  other  Burmans?  " 

"  There  is  no  difference  that  I  can  distinguish." 

"Are  they  of  the  high  or  low  classes?" 

"  Both,  your  majesty.  I  have  baptized  recently  a 
poor  fisherman,  and  a  learned  teacher  of  much  note." 
Little  idea  had  he  of  the  real  difference  between  tho  two 
new  disciples. 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  207 

"Do  they  adhere  strictly  to  their  new  religion?  " 

"  So  far,  all  have  been  faithful.  We  hold  daily  wor- 
ship, and  I  preach  to  them  publicly  every  Sunday." 

"What,  in  Burman?" 

"  In  Burmau." 

"  Let  us  hear  you  preach." 

Here  Mr.  Juclson  hesitated,  should  he  dare  to  preach  in 
the  king's  palace?  But  the  king  himself  had  demanded 
it,  though  for  curiosity,  and  an  a-twen-woon  repeated  the 
order  Hoping  that  good  might  come  of  it,  he  began 
with tj  an  invocation,  and  an  ascription  of  praise  and 
glory  to  God,  followed  by  a  declaration  of  the  laws  of 
the  Gospel ;  when  he  stopped. 

"Go  on,"  said  another  a-twen-woon. 

Amid  the  profound  silence  of  the  court,  he  proceeded 
to  declare  the  perfection  of  God,  when  his  majesty's 
curiosity  being  satisfied,  ho  signed  to  him  to  stop. 
Being  asked  what  he  thought  of  Gautama,  he  replied 
that  he  was  the  son  of  a  great  king,  and  was  a  wise  and 
good  teacher,  but  not  God  This  explanation  seemed 
to  please  some  of  the  ministers  who  now  entered  into 
a  spirited  conversation  in  regard  to  God  and  Christ, 
his  majesty  listening  in  silence.  Moung  Zah  encouraged 
by  all  this,  made-  a  remark,  which  at  the  time  of 
Mekara's  banishment  would  have  cost  him  his  life. 

"  Nearly  all  the  world,  your  majesty,  believe  in  an 
eternal  God,  all  except  Burmah  and  Siam,  these  little 
spots ! " 

His  majesty  sat  for  a  few  moments,  in  silence,  then 
making  a  few  remarks  on  other  topics,  arose  and  retired. 

It  was  now  near  the  time  when  Mrs.  Judson  was 
expected  to  return  from  America,  and  Mr.  Judson  pre- 
pared to  go  to  Rangoon  to  meet  her,  expecting  to  return 


208  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

with  her  to  Ava  and  establish  a  mission  there.  On 
communicating  his  intention  to  the  king  in  regard  to 
leaving  for  Rangoon,  he  inquired : 

"  Will  you  proceed  thence  to  your  own  country?  " 

"  Only  to  Rangoon." 

The  king  nodded  in  acquiescence. 

Moung  Zah  inquired : 

"Will  you  both  go,  or  will  the  doctor  remain?" 

"It  is  very  hot  here,"  said  Dr.  Price  "and  our  situa- 
tion is  inconvenient,  besides  Mr.  Judson  expects  his 
wife  at  Rangoon  and  must  go  to  meet  her." 

"Then  you  will  return  here  after  the  hot  season," 
said  Moung  Zah. 

Mr.  Judson  looked  at  the  king  inquiringly,  and 
replied : 

"  If  it  is  convenient." 

The  king  again  nodded  and  smiled,  and  turning  to 
Dr.  Price,  said : 

"  Let  a  place  be  given  him." 

Before  making  final  preparations  to  depart,  Mr.  Jud- 
son held  anoth'er  conversation  with  Moung  Zah,  but 
with  little  success.  The  belief  that  there  was  an 
eternal  God  had  long  possessed  him,  as  we  know  from 
former  events,  but  he  could  not  receive  Christ,  ranking 
Him  as  a  great  teacher,  such  as  Gautama  and  Mahomet, 
but  with  nothing  of  the  divine  about  Him.  He  seemed 
immovably  settled  in  his  convictions,  yet,  on  parting, 
he  said : 

"  This  is  a  deep  and  difficult  subject.  Do  you,  teacher, 
consider  further  and  I,  also,  will  consider." 

On  taking  leave  of  Prince  M.,  the  prince  desired 
him  to  return  to  Ava  and  bring  all  the  Christian  Scrip- 


THE    CHILD    OF    THE    GANGES.  209 

tures  and  translate  them  into  Burman  that  he  might 
read  them  all.  His  wife  also  expressed  a  great  desire 
to  see  Mrs.  Judson,  and  enjoined  upon  him  to  bring 
her  without  fail. 

The  king  invited  him  to  return  to  the  capital  to  live, 
and  the  queen  expressed  a  great  desire  to  see  the  white 
lady  in  her  foreign  dress. 

Such  a  happy  heart  Mr.  Judson  had  never  had  before 
as  he  departed  this  time  from  the  Golden  City.  The 
king  and  all  the  royal  family  were  pleased  with  him 
and  interested  in  his  religion.  Now  he  could  establish 
a  mission  in  the  capital  whence  its  influence  would  be 
felt  over  the  whole  empire.  And,  then,  was  he  not 
going  to  meet  Ann  from  whom  he  had  been  parted  so 
long?     Happy  teacher!     But  sorrow  will  come. 

Reaching  Rangoon  he  received  a  letter  from  Mrs. 
Judson  stating  that  she  had  just  left  England  for 
America,  and  it  would  be  several  months  yet  before  she 
could  return.  This  time  of  waiting  gave  him  an  oppor- 
tunity of  finishing  his  translation  of.  the  New  Testa- 
ment which  he  had  reluctantly  abandoned  to  accompany 
Dr.  Price.  He  also  prepared  a  synopsis  of  the  Old 
Testament  to  be  used  in  the  study  of  the  New. 

After  ten  months  Mrs.  Judson  returned,  accompanied 
by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wade,  who  now  were  left  with  the 
Houghs  in  charge  of  the  mission.  Eight  days  after 
their  arrival  Mr.  Judson  set  out  on  his  third  journey 
to  the  Golden  City,  accompanied  by  his  wife,  a  Bengalee 
cook,  and  Moung  Ing,  who  declared  he  would  never 
leave  them.  After  an  absence  of  almost  a  year,  Mr. 
Judson  again  clasped  hands  with  Dr.  Price. 
14 


BOOK  FIFTH, 


CHAPTER  I.    . 

"  I  know,  as  my  life  grows  older, 
And  mine  eyes  have  clearer  sight, 
That  under  each  rank  wrong  somewhere 

There  lies  the  root  of  right  ; 
That  each  sorrow  has  its  purpose, 
By  the  sorrowing  oft  unguessed, 
But  as  sure  as  the  sun  brings  morning, 
*  Whatever  is— is  best." 

— Ella  Wheeler  Wilcox. 

Looking  forward  to  the  events  soon  to  transpire,  it  is 
hard  to  realize  the  truth  of  the  above.  The  finite  mind 
cannot  appreciate  the  designs  of  the  infinite.  As  a 
traveler,  stumbling  through  the  mists  of  the  valley, 
cannot  realize  that  the  sun  still  shines  brightly  on  the 
mountain-tops ;  that  the  sky  is  blue,  and  the  great 
world  gay ;  so  when  we  are  compassed  about  with  great 
afflictions,  the  whole  world  too  often  seems  dark,  and 
we  imagine  the  Lord  has  withdrawn  His  face  from  us, 
when,  in  reality,  it  is  His  excessive  love  drawing  a 
vapor  from  our  surrounding  circumstances  to  refreshen 
less  favored  spots  elsewhere.  Only  those  who  have 
passed  through  great  tribulations  can  begin  to  estimate 
the  fullness  of  God's  mercy,  and  see  how  His  Provi- 
dence has  ever  surrounded  them.  It  was  after  emerging 
from  the  "Valley  ot  The  Shadow  of  Death"  that  Bun- 

(210) 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 


211 


van's  pilgrims  stood  on  the  delectable  mountains  and 
viewed,  in  perspective,  the  "  Celestial  City." 

The  missionaries  were  met,  a  few  days  below  the 
Golden  City,  by  Dr.  Price,  who  informed  them  of  new 
difficulties  in  their  way  at  the  capital.  The  war  that 
had  long  been  threatening  between  Burmah  and  the 
English  in  Bengal  seemed  now  inevitable.  A  few  victims 
of  Burman  cruelty  had  escaped  to  the  dominions  of  the 
British  in  Arracan.  The  monarch  demanded  of  the 
English  authorities  that  they  be  arrested  and  delivered 
to  him.  On  their  refusal  to  interfere,  he  determined 
to  punish  them  by  wresting  Arracan  from  their  posses- 
sion. Flushed  with  recent  victories  over  the  Kathays 
and  other  aboriginal  tribes,  he  imagined  that  the  very 
name  of  the'  Golden  Face  would  cause  all  enemies  to 
tremble,  and  that  the  glitter  of  the  golden  war-boats 
would  strike  terror  into  their  hearts,  insomuch  that 
they  would  flee  without  offering  to  resist.  The  council 
of  a-twen-woons  who  had  been  so  favorable  to  the 
teachers,  was  dismissed  and  strangers  appointed.  Dr. 
Price  himself  was  out  of  favor  at  court. 

The  changed  state  of  affairs  was  a  severe  disappoint- 
ment to  the  missionaries  after  the  sanguine  hopes  in 
which  they  had  previously  indulged. 

Dr.  Price  had  erected  a  house  in  which  they  were 
received,  but  the  brick  walls  were  yet  damp,  and  so 
affected  the  health  of  Mrs.  Judson  that  they  were  com- 
pelled to  return  to  the  boat  and  remain  till  a  house  of 
bamboo  could  be  built  on  a  spot  of  ground  which  the 
king  had  given  to  Mr.  Judson  when  there  before. 
Within  the  incredibly  short  time  of  two  weeks  the 
house  was  ready  and  they  moved  in ;  but  the  thin  walls 


212  THE   CHILD   OF   THE   GANGES. 

were  but  poor  protection  against  the  heat,  which  often 
exceeded  one  hundred  and  eight  degrees  in  the  shade ; 
and  they  would  be  forced  to  build  a  smaller  house  of 
brick  to  be  used  during  the  hot  season  then  just  com- 
ing on. 

On  his  first  visit  to  the  palace,  Mr.  Judson  met  with 
a  cold  reception.  The  king  recognized  him  and  accepted 
from  him  a  small  present,  but  never  noticed  him  again. 
The  queen  did  not  even  mention  the  "  white  lady  in 
the  foreign  dress,"  whom  she  had  formerly  expressed 
such  a  desire  to  meet,  and  as  a  consequence  Ann  never 
ventured  within  the  palace  enclosure.  Prince  M.  and 
his  wife  alone  received  them  cordially,  yet  they  were 
averse  to  speaking  on  religious  subjects,  and  confined 
their  conversations  to  the  arts  and  sciences. 

Notwithstanding  these  difficulties,  they  lost  no  oppor- 
tunity of  teaching.  Mr.  Judson  held  public  worship 
every  Lord's  day  at  Dr.  Price's.  Ann  also  began  her 
female  school  as  in  Rangoon.  The  first  pupils  she  had 
were  three  little  girls  whom  she  taught  to  read.  The 
circumstances  connected  with  two  of  these  sisters  are 
somewhat  singular.  Their  mother  had  become  insane, 
and  their  father,  being  unable  to  provide  for  them 
properly,  brought  them  to  Mrs.  Judson  to  rear  and 
educate.  Though  said  to  be  sisters,  and  each  calling 
him  father,  there  was  a  striking  dissimilarity  in  their 
features  and  manners.  The  eldest  was  a  bright,  acute 
little  creature ;  and,  judging  from  her  expression,  one 
would  think  her  at  least  sixteen,  but  in  form  she  did 
not  seem  more  than  twelve.  Mrs.  Judson  observed  the 
peculiarity  and  inquired  of  her  father  how  old  she  was. 

"That  I  do  not  know  "  he  replied. 


THE   CHILD   OF   THE    GANGES.  213 

"  What,  not  know  the  age  of  your  own  child?  " 

"  She  is  not  really  my  child.  My  wife  took  her  to 
rear  when  but  a  babe,  and  we  have  considered  her  as 
our  own,  even  as  the  sister  of  this  one." 

"  Is  her  own  mother  dead,  that  there  is  no  one  to  tell 
her  age?  " 

"  It  is  a  strange  story,  teacher,  and  I  know  it  not  all. 
Years  ago,  before  my  wife  lost  her  reason,  one  day  while 
I  was  away  from  home,  the  white  teacher  who  was  here 
before  you  came,  brought  the  little  child  to  my  house, 
seemingly  then  about  a  year  old.  He  told  my  wife  her 
story  and  requested  her  to  keep  the  little  one,  as  he  had 
at  that  time  no  wife,  though  he  afterwards  married  a 
native  woman  at  Rangoon.  The  child  is  evidently  a 
Burman,  though  the  teacher  brought  her  over  from 
Bengal.  When  I  returned  home  from  the  service  of 
the  king  she  was  at  my  house  as  my  own  child.  I 
inquired  of  my  wife  her  history  but  the  madness  had 
come  on  her  and  she  could  give  me  no  answer.  From 
her  ravings,  at  times,  I  have  gleaned  this  much.  All 
else  seems  to  have  been  a  secret  entailed  upon  her,  and 
tnis  little  box  was  left  to  be  opened  when  the  child 
should  be  fully  grown." 

From  the  folds  of  his  vest  he  drew  a  little  ivory 
jewelry  casket  and  delivered  it  to  Mrs.  Judson. 

"  It  is  indeed  a  strange  story,"  she  replied,  "  and  I 
have  a  great  curiosity  to  know  the  mystery  of  her  origin, 
but  will  keep  the  little  box  for  her  till  she  is  grown. 
Is  it  locked?" 

"  It  is.  The  key  will  be  found  on  a  cord  about  her 
neck,  which  was  there  when  we  first  knew  her,  and  has 
never  been  removed." 


214  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

He  then  took  an  affectionate  leave  of  the  little  ones, 
and  Mrs.  Judson  led  them  into  the  house,  henceforth 
to  be  as  her  own  children.  They  called  her  their  "  white 
mamma,"  and  she  has  ever  since  been  known  by  that 
title  among  the  Burmans.  She  gave  them  her  maiden 
name — one  Mary,  the  other  Abbe  Hasseltine.  Mary, 
the  eldest,  was  called  by  the  Burmans,  Mah-ree — the 
Burmese  for  Mary. 

Mrs.  Judson  had  had  a  happy  visit  to  the  home  of 
her  childhood,  which,  when  leaving  at  first,  she  never 
expected  to  see  again.  The  old  friends  of  her  school 
days  crowded  around  her,  rejoiced  at  her  success  in  the 
mission  field,  and  wept  with  her  over  the  pathetic  death 
ol  Harriet,  whom  they  all  loved.  Her  relations  of  mis- 
sionary trials  and  sufferings,  with  their  consequent 
joys,  aroused  a  zeal  among  her  friends  at  home,  and  the 
girls  of  Bradford  Academy  organized  themselves  into 
an  association  to  raise  money  for  missions.  Their  first 
instalment  reached  her  just  at  this  point,  and  she  set 
it  apart  for  the  support  of  Mah-ree.  With  her  little 
school  of  three,  she  now  began  teaching,  expecting  to 
increase  the  number  as  she  and  her  object  became  bet- 
ter known. 

Mr.  Judson  devoted  himself  to  the  translation  of  the 
BiblQ,  and  each  hoped  that,  in  the  event  of  war,  they, 
being  Americans,  would  not  be  molested. 

News  was  soon  brought  to  the  capital  that  an  English 
fleet  had  anchored  in  the  mouth  of  the  river  at  Ran- 
goon, and  one  morning,  just  after  their  worship  in  Dr. 
Price's  house,  a  messenger  entered  and  announced  that 
the  city  of  Rangoon  had  been  taken.  The  intelligence 
produced  a  two-fold  effect  upon  the  foreigners — one  of 


THE   CHILD   OF   THE   GANGES.  215 

joy,  that  they  should  be  under  christian  rule  ;  the  other 
of  fear,  lest  the  consequences  should  be  fatal  to  them 
before  greater  conquests  should  be  made. 

Mr.  Gouger,  an  English  merchant  at  Ava,  was  wor- 
shiping with  them,  and  he,  of  course,  had  more  cause 
to  fear  than  any  of  them.  We  went  at  once  to  Prince 
Thirrawady,  the  king's  most  influential  brother,  who 
replied  that  he  need  not  be  uneasy,  as  his  majesty  had 
said  the  few  foreigners  residing  at  Ava  had  nothing  to 
do  with  the  war,  and  should  not  be  molested. 

The  whole  city  was  now  in  the  wildest  commotion. 
An  army  of  ten  thousand  troops  was  raised  and  dis- 
patched  down  the  river  in  their  golden  war-boats.  Not 
the  least  doubt  was  entertained  of  their  success  in 
recapturing  Rangoon.  The  king  was  only  apprehen- 
sive lest  the  name  of  the  Golden  Face  should  so  frighten 
the  enemy  that  they  would  all  escape  to  their  boats 
before  they  could  be  captured  as  slaves.  The  king  him- 
self sent  a  pair  of  golden  fetters  to  bind  the  prime  min- 
ister, whom  he  expected  to  make  his  own  royal  servant. 
A  wild  young  buck  of  the  palace  put  in  his  application 
for  six  white  strangers  to  row  his  boat,  and  the  wife  of 
a  woon-gyee  ordered  four  white  strangers  to  manage 
her  household.  The  eager  soldiers  gladly  promised  to 
supply  all  these  demands,  and  as  they  passed  down  the 
river  by  Mr.  Judson's  house  in  the  war-boats  they  were 
dancing  and  shouting  in  the  highest  glee. 

"Poor  fellows!"  said  the  missionaries;  "you  will 
probably  never  dance  again." 

The  prediction  was  only  too  true.  They  were  never 
to  see  the  Golden  City  again. 


216  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

Immediately  after  the  departure  of  the  army  the  gov- 
ernment began  to  inquire  into  the  cause  of  the  sudden 
arrival  of  the  white  strangers  at  Rangoon.  Some  sug- 
gested that] spies  had  invited  them  over.  Three  English- 
men were  then  in  Ava,  and  were  at  once  seized  and  placed 
in  confinement.  Mr.  Judson  and  Dr.  Price  were  also 
examined ;  but,  being  Americans  and  having  no  commu- 
nication with  the  British,  they  were  released.  But  when 
they  came  to  examine  the  English  prisoners,  it  was  found 
from  Mr.  Gouger's  accounts  that  the  missionaries  had 
drawn  on  him  for  money,  as  they  received  their  salary 
from  America,  through  exchange,  by  orders  on  Bengal. 
The  Burmese  authorities,  ignorant  of  these  customs, 
thought  they  were  in  the  pay  of  the  British,  and, 
very  likely,  spies.  On  hearing  this,  the  king  angrily 
exclaimed : 

"Arrest  the  two  teachers  immediately!" 

At  the  mission  house  all  were  engaged  in  their  usual 
occupation,  not  suspecting  any  danger.  The  brick- 
masons  without  were  busily  humming  at  their  work  on 
the  new  house,  Mr.  Judson  was  in  his  study  writing, 
the  little  Burman  girls  were  sitting  on  the  floor  study- 
ing their  lessons,  and  Ann  was  in  an  inner  room  pre- 
paring dinner.  Moung  Ing  was  washing  the  rice  outside 
the  door,  when  there  rushed  up  a  magistrate  holding  a 
black  book,  accompanied  by  a  dozen  ruffians  and  a 
hideous  spotted-face,  whom  Moung  Ing  knew  to  be  an 
executioner. 

"Where  is  the  teacher?"  demanded  the  magistrate. 

Mr.  Judson,  hearing  the  commotion,  appeared  at  his 
study  door,  pen  in  hand. 


THE    CHILD   OF   THE   GANGES.  217 

"You  are  called  by  the  king,"  said  the  officer,  and 
meant  he  was  now  under  arrest.  The  spotted-face, 
at  this  signal,  leaped  upon  him,  threw  him  on  the 
floor,  and  proceeded  to  bind  upon  his  arms  a  small  cord. 
This  is  a  favorite  instrument  of  torture,  as  the  arms, 
pinioned  from  behind,  are  drawn  together,  sometimes 
stopping  respiration,  and  even  producing  death,  caus- 
ing the  blood  to  spurt  from  mouth  and  nostrils.  Ann 
came  rushing  in,  and  seeing  what  the  executioner 
intended,  caught  him  by  the  arm. 

"  Stay  I"  she  said.     "  I  will  give  you  money." 

"  Take  her,  too,"  demanded  the  officer.  "  She  also  is 
a  foreigner." 

Mr.  Judson  here  interposed,  though  till  now  he  had 
been  silent.  He  pleaded  that  they  had  no  orders  to 
arrest  her,  and  begged  them  imploringly  to  let  her 
remain — which  they  reluctantly  consented  to  do  The 
scene  was  heart-rending.  Abbe  and  Mah-ree  stood 
screaming  and  crying;  the  brick-layers  forsook  their 
work  and  fled ;  the  Bengalee  servants  looked  on  with 
horror  to  see  their  master  thus  rolled  on  the  floor  and 
trampled  upon ;  the  neighbors  crowded  in,  and  Moung 
Ing  stood  with  flashing  eyes,  as  if  he  would  have  been 
glad  to  resent  the  terrible  indignities.  The  cruel  spot- 
ted-face, grinning  with  hellish  delight,  drew  tighter  the 
cords  and  dragged  the  tortured  man  from  the  house. 
Ann  begged  and  entreated  him  to  accept  the  money 
and  loosen  the  cords,  but  he  only  grinned  and  gave 
them  another  twist  as  he  departed.  She  now  gave  the 
money  to  Moung  Ing,  and  told  him  to  follow  and  see 
if  he  could  not  persuade  them  to  relieve  Mr.  Judson 
from  his  suffering.      But  when  the  faithful   servant 


218  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

again  offered  the  money  as  they  passed  into  the  street, 
instead  of  receiving  it,  the  executioner  threw  his  victim 
to  the  ground,  planting  his  knees  on  his  back,  drew 
harder  on  the  ropes  with  diabolic  joy,  until  the  poor 
man  shrieked  with  anguish.  Seeing  that  such  attempts 
only  increased  instead  of  alleviating  the  torture,  Moung 
Ing  followed  on  in  silence  to  see  what  they  would  do. 
First  to  the  court-house.  There  a  crowd  had  collected, 
and  an  officer  read  the  sentence  of  the  king — "  to  the 
death-prison  !  "  All  who  enter  there  are  condemned  to 
die  at  some  time.  Moung  Ing  saw  him  hurled  within 
and  the  door  closed,  then  returned  and  reported  to  the 
distressed  wife.  He  told  her  to  be  of  good  cheer,  as  he 
did  not  think  they  would  kill  her  husband,  and  he 
would  go  himself  to  the  prison  enclosure  and  remain 
through  the  night,  in  order  to  render  any  service  in  his 
power. 

The  old  governor  of  the  North  Gate,  Moung  Shaw-loo, 
into  whose  charge  all  prisoners  are  consigned,  was  sit- 
ting in  his  apartment  early  next  morning,  dozing  like 
a  lazy  Burman  will,  and  entirely  alone.  The  governor 
was  a  fat,  jolly  old  fellow,  kind-hearted  and  generous — 
a  rare  qualification  in  a  Burmese  official. 

A  bamboo  door  slowly  opened  and  a  man  passed 
gently  into  the  room  unobserved.  It  was  Moung  Ing, 
his  servant's  livery  contrasting  strongly  with  his  luxu- 
riant surroundings.  He  advanced  up  the  carpeted  hall 
until  he  stood  in  front  of  its  occupant,  his  face  down- 
cast and  his  eyes  on  the  floor. 

The  old  man  started  up  in  surprise  and  alarm,  and 
exclaimed,  "  Who  art  thou,  menial,  to  venture  thus  into 
my  presence  unannounced?'* 


THE   CHILD   OF   THE   GANGES.  219 

For  a  moment  there  was  no  answer.  Moung  Ing  was 
thinking  of  the  cruel  indignities  inflicted  on  the  teach- 
er, whom  he  believed  to  have  come  all  the  way  from 
America,  God-sent,  in  answer  to  his  prayers.  The 
royal  blood  leaped  in  his  veins.  The  sleeping  lion 
within  him  awoke.  Lifting  his  head  proudly,  while 
there  danced  in  his  eyes  the  fires  of  Alompra,  he  spoke 
in  a  stern  voice,  which,  had  it  been  pronounced  in  the 
great  audience  chamber,  would  have  caused  each  hearer 
to  tremble  at  its  power. 

"Moung  Shwa-loo!"  he  cried;  "dost  thou  not  know 
me?" 

The  old  man  was  thunderstruck  to  hear  his  name 
thus  familiarly  called  by  a  menial ;  but  astonishment 
gave  place  to  fear  and  trembling  as  he  gazed  on  the 
transfiguration  of  the  man  before  him.  His  servant's 
robe  was  no  longer  seen,  only  the  flashing  eyes,  proudly- 
lifted  head  and  handsome  form.  The  Golden  Face 
himself  could  not  have  inspired  such  awe  in  the  gov- 
ernor's heart.  He  saw  before  him  the  banished  and 
beloved  prince;  and  realized  that  he  had  spoken 
roughly  to  him.  With  pallor  on  his  cheeks  and  trem- 
bling in  his  knees,  he  fell  to  the  floor,  clasping  the 
prince  by  the  feet  and  crying : 

"  My  Lord  Mekara,  forgive  me.  I  did  not  recognize 
you.     Indeed  I  did  not !  " 

Stooping,  Mekara  lifted  the  old  man  back  to  his  seat. 
The  royal  passion  had  spent  itself,  and  he  was  once 
more  simple  Moung  Ing,  the  humble  fisherman,  servant 
of  the  teacher  and  devoted  follower  of  the  meek  and 
lowly  Nazarene. 

"Your  Excellency,"  he  said  in  assuring  tones,  "be 
not  afraid  of  me.     I  would  never  have  revealed  myself 


220  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

had  it  not  been  for  circumstances  that  have  just  tran- 
spired demanding  action  on  my  part,  even  at  the  haz- 
ard of  my  life  ;  for  it  would  be  accounted  nothing  should 
my  nephew,  the  Golden  Face,  hear  of  my  presence  here, 
in  sight  of  the  palace,  which  is  in  reality  my  own.  Can 
I  depend  on  you  to  keep  my  secret?  " 

"  Command  me  anything,  my  Lord,  and  I  will  do  it, 
to  the  extent  of  my  life,"  replied  the  old  man  fer- 
vently. 

"You  know  the  circumstances  connected  with  my 
banishment.  I  believed  there  was  a  God,  and,  as  a 
consequence,  could  no  longer  worship  at  pagodas.  For 
that  was  I  disinherited.  Since  then  I  have  wandered 
much,  seeking  God  and  praying  him  for  light.  I  have 
found  Him.  The  white  teacher  was  impressed  by  His 
Spirit  to  bring  the  glad  tidings  of  salvation,  through  a 
crucified  Redeemer,  to  us  who  sit  in  darkness.  I  have 
consecrated  my  life  to  God's  service.  When  I  heard  of 
my  father's  death,  instead  of  coming  and  claiming  my 
crown,  which  all  would  have  gladly  given  me,  I  chose 
rather  to  be  a  private  soldier  of  the  Cross.  By  learn- 
ing to  preach  I  can  do  my  people  more  good  than  by 
ruling  over  them.  For  this  cause  I  study  under  the 
teacher  and  serve  him.  But  the  king  has  ordered  him 
to  the  death-prison,  whence  few  come  out  alive.  This 
prison  is  in  your  keeping.  The  king's  commands  arc 
executed  through  you.  My  request  is  that  you  will 
make  the  situation  of  the  prisoners  as  comfortable  as 
possible,  ancj  that  you  will  spare  the  teachej-'s  life,  even 
contrary  to  the  king's  decree.  You  can  hide  him  away, 
and  his  majesty  will  never  know  it  Will  you  pledge 
me  this?" 


THE   CHILD    OF   THE   GANGES.  221 

The  old  man  reflected  seriously  for  a  moment.  "It 
is  a  hard  and  dangerous  thing,  my  Lord,"  he  replied, 
"to  disobey  the  king,  and  my  life  would  pay  the  pen- 
alty should  he  know  it ;  but  I  promised  to  do  anything 
for  you  to  the  extent  of  my  life,  and  I  will  do  it.  He 
shall  not  die  while  in  my  keeping." 

"Good,"  replied  Moung  Ing;  "  and  I  shall  trust  you 
to  keep  your  word.  Treat  kindly  the  white  lady  who 
shall  visit  you.  Give  her  every  privilege  in  your  power, 
but  say  nothing  of  me.  It  is  not  safe  that  I  should 
remain  longer  or  return  any  more.  God's  mercy  be 
with  you." 

He  then  passed  out  as  unobserved  as  when  he  entered, 
leaving  the  old  governor  amazed  at  the  apparition,  as 
it  were,  of  one  whom  he  thought  dead,  and  at  the  rash 
promises  which  he  himself  had  made. 

After  Moung  Ing  had  returned  to  the  prison  the  even- 
ing before,  the  magistrate  of  the  city  came  to  examine 
Mrs.  Judson.  She  had  kept  a  carefully  prepared  jour- 
nal of  every  event  since  coming  to  the  city,  but  this, 
together  with  her  other  papers,  she  destroyed,  lest  they 
should  be  found  to  have  correspondents  in  England. 
She  then  went  out  and  submitted  to  the  search,  as  well 
as  answer  a  great  many  minute  questions.  The  magis- 
trate then  departed  after  placing  a  guard  of  ten  ruf- 
fians about  the  house  with  instructions  to  keep  her  safe 
and  allow  no  one  to  go  in  or  out  on  pain  of  death. 

As  it  was  now  dark  she  retired  to  her  inner  room  with 
Abbe  and  Mah-ree  and  barred  the  doors.  There  was 
immediately  an  uproar  outside.  The  guard  ordered  her 
to  unbar  the  doors  and  come  out  or  they  would  tear  the 


222  CHILD   OF   THE   GANGES. 

house  down.  This  she  obstinately  refused  to  do,  and 
finding  her  not  to  be  intimidated  by  their  threats,  they 
resorted  to  another  expedient.  Capturing  her  two 
Bengalee  servants,  they  carried  them  around  opposite 
her  window  and  confined  them  in  the  stocks ;  first  lay- 
ing them  on  their  faces  till  their  feet  were  fastened, 
then  bending  them  backward  till  their  shoulders  lay 
on  the  ground  behind,  a  most  painful  position.  Ann 
could  not  endure  to  see  the  poor  creatures  thus  suffer- 
ing, and  calling  the  headman  to  her  window,  she  told 
him  if  he  would  release  the  servants  she  would  give 
them  all  a  present  in  the  morning.  This  was  very 
pleasing  to  their  avaricious  hearts,  but  they  did  not 
want  her  to  think  it  an  easy  matter  to  influence  them, 
and  only  consented  after  much  debating,  and  many 
threats.  But  their  diabolic  carousing  through  the  re- 
mainder of  the  night  allowed  her  no  rest.  Climbing 
up  on  the  walls  of  the  unfinished  brick  house  in  front 
of  the  window,  they  yelled  and  screamed  like  demons, 
and  made  the  night  hideous  by  their  satanic  jests  and 
malicious  threats.  Thus  unprotected,  even  Moung  Ing 
being  away,  she  passed  that  first  miserable  night, 
equalled  only  by  the  sufferer  in  the  death-prison. 

The  next  day  Moung  Ing  returned,  at  intervals,  for 
food  for  the  prisoners,  and  reported  their  condition. 
Ann  was  in  deep  distress  because  she  could  do  nothing 
for  her  husband,  being  herself  a  prisoner.  She  begged 
the  guard  to  let  her  go  into  the  city  and  lay  their  case 
before  some  member  of  government,  but  they  replied 
that  they  dared  not,  lest  she  escape.  Penning  a  note, 
she  sent  it  to  the  king's  sister,  begging  her  to  lay  the 
matter  before  the  king.  But  she  was  afraid  of  the  queen 
and  refused  to  interfere. 


fCT 


224         THE  CHILD  OP  THE  GANGES. 

On  the  following  night  the  guard,  having  been  soft- 
ened by  gifts  of  tea  and  cigars,  were  not  so  boisterous, 
yet  the  thought  of  her  husband  in  chains  prevented  the 
poor  tired  wife  from  resting  again. 

Next  morning  she  sent  a  note  to  the  governor  request- 
ing permission  to  visit  him  with  a  present.  He  kindly 
consented  and  sent  orders  to  the  guards  to  let  her  come 
into  the  city.  The  old  man  received  her  very  pleasantly, 
and  seemed  ready  to  grant  any  request  in  hi3  power. 
She  stated  to  him  the  true  situation  of  the  foreigners, 
and  convinced  him  that  the  teachers,  being  Americans, 
had  nothing  to  do  with  the  war  and  should  not  be  con- 
fined.    He  replied : 

"  It  is  not  in  my  power  to  release  any  of  the  prisoners, 
but  their  situation  can  be  made  more  comfortable. 
There  is  my  head  officer  who  has  charge  of  the  pris- 
oners, state  fully  to  him  what  you  desire  in  that  respect." 

The  officer,  to  whom  he  referred  her,  was  one  of  the 
city  writers,  in  whose  face  there  seemed  to  be  a  concen- 
tration of  every  evil  passion  common  to  the  most  de- 
praved heart  of  man.     Taking  her  to  one  side  he  said : 

"  Now,  lady,  not  only  are  the  prisoners  in  my  power, 
but  you  also  are  entirely  at  my  disposal,  and  your  com- 
fort, as  well  as  theirs,  will  depend  altogether  on  your 
liberality  in  regard  to  presents,  and  these  must  be  made 
to  me  privately,  that  no  officer  of  government  may 
know  it." 

This  much  she  had  anticipated,  knowing  from  former 
experiences  that  only  through  a  present  could  she  gain 
access  to  an  ordinary  Burman's  heart. 

"  What  must  I  do,"  she  said,  '  to  obtain  a  mitigation 
of  the  present  sufferings  of  the  two  teachers?" 


THE   CHILD   OF   THE   GANGES.  225 

"Pay  to  me  two  hundred  ticals,  two  pieces  of  fine 
cloth,  and  two  pieces  of  handkerchiefs." 

She  had  with  her  the  amount  of  money  demanded, 
but  her  house  being  two  miles  away,  she  could  not  con- 
veniently return,  and  begged  him  to  receive  the  money, 
and  not  insist  on  the  other  articles.  He  hesitated  for  a 
moment,  looking  with  gloating  eyes  on  the  money, 
which  amounted  to  about  one  hundred  dollars ;  then, 
fearing  to  lose  sight  of  so  much,  he  accepted  it  and 
promised  to  relieve  the  prisoners  as  much  as  possible. 
The  governor  now  gave  her  an  order  to  the  jailer  for 
admittance  into  the  prison,  and  she  sped  gladly  away, 
hoping,  at  last,  to  meet  her  husband  after  those  twe 
days  and  nights  of  anxious  separation  and  suffering. 


15 


CHAPTER  II. 

"  Again  I  looked— It  "was  a  foreign  shore. 
The  tropic  sun  had  laid  his  burning  head 
On  twilight's  lap.    A  gorgeous  palace  caught 
His  last  red  ray,  while  hoarse  the  idol  song 
To  Boodah,  mingled  with  the  breeze  that  curled 
Broad  Irrawaddy's  tide.    Why  do  we  point 
To  yon  lone  prison  ?    "Who  is  he  that  gropes 
Amid  its  darkness  with  those  fettered  limbs? 
Mad  pagans  !  do  ye  thus  respite  the  man 
Who  toils  for  your  salvation  ?  " 

— Mrs.  Sigoumcy. 

The  death-prison  stands  on  a  bare,  burning  plain, 
just  without  the  city,  with  not  even  a  palm  to  protect 
its  inmates  from  the  fierce  rays  of  the  tropical  sun 
that  dance  and  shimmer  on  its  slatted  sides,  or  scorch 
its  thinly  thatched  roof.  The  prison  enclosure  is  a 
spacious  square,  surrounded  by  a  high  wall  of  boards 
held  together  by  slats  pinned  on  the  outside.  Within 
this  enclosure,  and  extending  the  whole  length  of  one 
side,  is  an  open  shed  with  the  yard  wall  for  its  back. 
Beneath  this,  in  wretched,  squalid  filth,  live  the  under 
jailers,  or  children  of  the  prison,  with  their  leprous 
wives  and  vermin-laden  offspring.  Without  the  wall 
is  a  structure  resembling  a  square  haystack  with  steep 
peaked  roof,  in  which  dwells  the  father  of  the  estab- 
lishment. All  the  sons  of  the  prison  are  condemned 
criminals,  and  may  be  recognized  anywhere  on  account 
of  their  spotted  faces,  the  sign  of  outlawry  being 
branded  with  a  red-hot  iron  ring  on  their  cheeks ;  and 
the  name  of  their  crime  labeled  in  like  manner  on  their 
breasts.    Their  lives  are  only  spared  on  condition  of 

(226) 


THE   CHILD   OF   THE   GANGES.  227 

their  faithfulness  and  ad  aptness  to  execute  all  the 
cruel  methods  of  torture  resorted  to  by  the  tyrannical 
government.  They  have  no  possible  means  of  escape, 
as  their  ineffaceable  sign  of  guilt  is  ever  visible  and 
known.  Their  only  daily  occupation  is  to  torture 
prisoners.  The  only  music  that  ever  greets  their  ears 
is  composed  of  the  shriek  and  groans  of  suffering 
victims.  But  as  sameness  in  any  occupation  in  life 
grows  monotonous,  they  studiously  display  an  ingenious 
variety  in  the  tortures  applied,  and  only  those  who 
make  it  a  life-study  could  invent,  with  so  few  artificial  or 
mechanical  appliances,  such  different  modes  as  they  use. 
From  continual  and  hereditary  association  with  such  a 
life,  they  acquire  a  passionate  fondness  for  their  occu- 
pation and  nothing  is  to  them  such  a  source  of  amuse- 
ment as  to  inflict  their  excruciating  pains  for  the  first 
time  on  a  fresh  victim,  to  see  his  writhings  and  listen 
with  fiendish  exultation  to  his  ear-piercing  cries.  They 
never  associate  with  any  but  prisoners ;  never  see  the 
great  world  outside,  nor  the  pagan  splendor  of  the 
palace.  Within  the  prison  walls  they  propagate  their 
race,  intermarrying  only  with  each  other  and  such 
unfortunate  prisoners  as  they  choose  to  spare  for  their 
base  purposes.  The  wretched  children,  fruits  of  incest 
and  adultery,  grow  up  with  the  vice  of  their  parents 
entailed  upon  them,  born  like  them,  and  by  association 
and  practice,  if  possible,  even  worse — demons  and 
fiends  incarnate. 

The  head  jailer  bore  on  his  breast  the  significant 
title,  "  loo-that,"  man-killer.  He  is  described  by  Mrs. 
Emily  C.  Judson  as  "a  tall  bony  man,  with  sinews  of 
iron ;  wearing,  when  speaking,  a  malicious  smirk,  and 


228  THE  CHILD  OP  THE  GANGES. 

given,  at  times,  to  a  most  revolting  kind  of  jocoseness. 
When  silent  and  quiet,  he  had  a  jaded,  care-worn  look ; 
but  it  was  at  the  torture  that  he  was  in  his  proper  ele- 
ment. Then  his  face  lighted  up — became  glad,  furious, 
demoniac.  His  small  black  eyes  glittered  like  those  of 
a  serpent;  his  thin  lips  rolled  back,  displaying  his 
toothless  gums  in  front,  with  a  long,  protruding  iusk 
on  either  side,  stained  black  as  ebony;  his  hollow, 
ringed  cheeks  seemed  to  contract  more  and  more,  and 
his  breast  heaved  with  convulsive  delight  beneath  the 
fearful  word,  Man-killer.  The  prisoners  called  him 
father  when  he  was  present  to  enforce  this  expression 
of  affectionate  familiarity ;  but  among  themselves  he 
was  irreverently  christened  the  Tiger-cat. 

"  One  of  the  most  active  of  the  children  of  the  prison 
was  a  short,  broad-faced  man,  labelled  thief,  who,  as 
well  as  the  Tiger,  had  a  peculiar  talent  in  the  way  of 
torturing ;  and  so  fond  was  he  of  the  use  of  the  whip, 
that  he  often  missed  his  count,  and  zealously  exceeded 
the  number  of  lashes  ordered  by  the  city  governor. 
The  wife  of  this  man  was  a  most  odious  creature; 
filthy,  bold,  impudent,  cruel,  and,  like  her  husband, 
delighting  in  torture.  Her  face  was  not  only  deeply 
pitted  with  small-pox,  but  so  deformed  with  leprosy, 
that  the  white  cartilage  of  the  nose  was  laid  entirely 
bare;  from  her  large  mouth  shone  rows  of  irregular 
teeth,  black  as  ink ;  her  hair,  which  was  left  entirely 
to  the  care  of  nature,  was  matted  in  large,  black  masses 
about  her  head ;  and  her  manner,  under  all  this  hideous 
ugliness,  was  insolent  and  vicious.  They  had  two 
children — little  vipers,  well  loaded  with  venom;  and 
by  their  vexatious  mode  of  annoyance  trying  the  temper 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  229 

of  the  prisoners  more  than  was  in  the  power  of  the 
mature  torturers." 

Such  was  the  family  under  whose  hospitable  care  the 
teachers  were  gladly  welcomed ;  but  the  guest  chamber 
— who  can  describe  the  grand  apartment  with  its  lux- 
urious furnishings? 

The  prison  was  a  building  forty  by  thirty  feet  square. 
The  sides  were  six  feet  high  with  a  sloping  roof  fifteen 
feet  high  in  the  center.  Around  the  walls  were  ranged 
long  rows  of  stocks,  composed  of  two  logs  with  holes 
bored  between,  and  fastened  together  with  long,  wooden 
pins ;  each  holding  a  pair  of  helpless  victims  by  the 
feet.  There  was  no  light  by  day  except  the  faint  rays 
that  struggled  through  the  chinks  between  the  boards. 
By  night  a  faint  glimmer,  only  sufficient  to  "  make  the 
darkness  visible,"  shone  from  a  flame  of  impure  earth- 
oil  in  an  earthern  cup,  suspended  from  a  tripod  in  the 
center.  The  only  ventilation  came  with  the  light,  and, 
of  course,  was  equally,  if  not  more,  scanty.  The  prison 
had  not  been  swept  since  it  was  built,  yet  it  had  been 
kept  continually  filled  with  the  vilest  of  the  land. 
There  were  no  private  accommodations  and  the  conse- 
quent stench  is  indescribable.  Here  were  huddled 
together  more  than  a  hundred  people  of  all  ages  and 
ranks,  and  of  both  sexes.  There  sat  cursing,  a  bandit 
thief  and  murderer ;  by  his  side,  in  sullen  silence,  was 
the  a-twen-woon  of  yesterday,  who  had  offended  the 
Golden  Face.  Here,  at  the  feet  of  the  judge  who  deliv- 
ered his  sentence,  lies  the  traitor.  There  was  no  dis- 
tinction of  race  or  caste  in  the  death-prison.  The 
laboring  breath  of  so  many  filled  the  room  with  poison- 
ous gas,  added  to  which  were  the   miasmatic  vapors 


230  THE  CHILD  OP  THE  GANGES. 

rising  like  steam  from  the  heated  grounds,  covered  with 
impurities.  Every  Burman  chews  the  betel,  and  the 
pulp  and  juice  of  this  abominable  article,  so  like  the 
filthy  weed  of  our  own  country,  covered  the  floor.  The 
walls  and  rafters  were  moldy  with  the  collections  of 
vapors  and  dust.  On  the  floor  were  ministers  of  torture 
not  less  terrible  than  the  keepers.  The  dust  seemed 
alive  with  hopping  fleas  of  immense  size  and  voracious 
jaws,  and  creeping  vermin  of  every  kind,  so  common 
to  tropical  countries. 

The  keepers  never  fed  their  prisoners.  If  one  should 
enter  there  so  unfortunate  as  to  have  no  friend  without 
who  dared  or  was  able  to  bring  him  food  and  drink,  he 
must  starve.  Even  then  food  was  not  admitted  with- 
out a  fee  to  the  jailer.  Many  had  no  acquaintances  in 
the  city,  and  the  consequent  sufferings  endured  are 
horrible  beyond  description.  Rolling  in  the  heavy 
dust,  vermin  gnawing  their  writhing  bodies,  mosquitoes 
in  hordes,  stinging  their  fettered  feet,  gaunt  hands  and 
emaciated  cheeks;  their  dry,  dusty  tongues  crying 
pitifully  for  water,  and  their  empty  stomachs  gnawing 
with  hunger,  seemed  enough  to  molt  any  heart ;  yet  the 
Tiger  laughed  at  their  miseries,  and  derived  unspeak- 
able delight  from  their  sufferings.  Often  they  would 
lie  till  the  last  stage  of  hunger  was  reached,  perhaps 
on  a  gala-day.  Then  the  women  of  the  city  would  bo 
allowed  to  enter  with  boiled  rice,  as  a  religious  duty. 
The  poor  famished  creatures  would  madly  seize  the 
bowls,  gorge  themselves  on  the  contents  ;  then  the  weak 
stomach,  over-laden,  would  rebel,  the  muscles  relapse, 
and  the  wretched  creatures  fall  back,  dead ! 

Such  the  chamber,  accommodations,  and  room-mates 
of  the  teachers,  and  other  foreigners. 


THE   CHILD   OF   THE   GANGES.  231 

A  plank  slided  back  at  one  end,  causing  the  blinded 
eyes  of  the  prisoners  to  blink  at  the  sudden  entrance 
of  daylight  from  the  outside  world.  But  the  entrance 
was  darkened  and  the  form  of  a  man  thrust  in.  It  was 
Mr.  Gouger,  the  English  merchant.  He  was  goaded  on, 
over  the  prostrate  bodies  of  those  around  him,  to  the 
center  where  the  Tiger  stood.  The  old  parent  received 
him  joyfully,  placed  his  long,  filthy  arms  around  him 
affectionately,  and  bidding  him  welcome  to  his  home, 
at  the  same  time  clasping  the  flesh  of  his  victim's  back 
in  his  talon-like  fingers  and  giving  such  a  pinch  that 
the  poor  man  squirmed  with  pain. 

"  Now,  my  dear  son,"  said  he,  "  since  you  have  become 
an  inmate  of  my  palatial  residence  " — and  he  gave  a 
mischievous  chuckle  as  he  glanced  at  the  surroundings 
— "  I  must  proceed  to  invest  you  with  the  insignia  of 
our  royal  household.  You  have  on  more  clothing  than 
is  customary  in  this  establishment,  so  you  may  dis- 
pense with  these,  which  I  will  appropriate  to  my  private 
use." 

He  then  stripped  him  of  coat,  vest,  hat  and  shoes. 

"  Now,"  he  continued,  "  please  be  so  kind  as  to  repose 
on  your  back  while  I  attach  to  your  beautiful  ankles 
these  handsome  rings." 

Mr.  Gouger  glanced  at  the  loathsome  floor,  in  terror 
at  the  thought  of  polluting  his  body  by  contact  with 
it,  but  there  was  no  choice.  The  giant  arms  closed  about 
him  and  laid  him  down  as  if  he  was.  an  infant.  His 
feet  were  laid  upon  an  iron  block  and  the  three  pairs  of 
,c  ornament,*  '  quickly  adjusted,  the  rivets  fastened,  and 
the  job  was  done  Each  blow  of  the  hammer  was 
accompanied  by  a  jest  and  if,  by  a  skillful  miscalcula- 


232  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

tion,  the  manipulator  missed  his  mark  and  battered  the 
rusty  iron  into  the  flesh,  he  laughed  immoderately,  as 
if  it  was  a  rich  joke.  The  courteous  host  next  seized 
his  unwilling  guest  by  the  arm,  and  politely  escorted 
him  to  the  further  end  of  the  prison,  and  stretching 
him  upon  his  back,  left  him  in  charge  of  the  Thief,  who 
was  ordered  to  see  that  he  lacked  for  nothing  (in  the 
way  of  torture.)  The  Tiger  then  returned  to  his  block 
and  awaited  other  patrons.  Two  other  Englishmen  soon 
made  their  appearance  and  were  received  with  equal 
cordiality.  Again  the  little  door  opened  and  the  "  wan 
teacher"  was  crowded  in,  stumbling  over  prostrate 
forms,  and  looking  with  horror  on  the  miserable  sur- 
roundings. To  Mr.  Judson,  especially,  was  this  being 
rolled  in  the  dust  and  filth,  revolting  beyond  measure. 
So  fastidiously  neat  and  clean  was  he  in  person  that  he 
bathed  his  body  in  pure  cold  water  every  day  and  his 
linen  never  showed  the  least  spot.  To  him  cleanliness 
was  next  to  godliness,  and  he  shrank  more  from  this 
contamination  with  filth  than  from  any  other  manner 
of  torture.  The  father,  with  quick  apprehension,  saw 
what  was  most  displeasing  to  his  guest,  and  arranged 
matters,  as  he  said,  "  congenial  to  his  taste,"  by  placing 
him  in  the  worst  place  to  be  found.  Another  American 
soon  followed,  then  a  Greek,  and  at  last,  Dr.  Price  was  led  in 
and  placed  in  the  row  with  the  others,  filling  out  the  rank. 

"Now  you  have  come,"  said  one  of  the  row,  "our 
number  is  complete,  and  I  suppose  they  will  proceed  to 
murder  us.  We  hoped  that  you  had  escaped,  you  were 
so  loug  in  coming." 

But  they  were  abruptly  forbidden  to  communicate 
again,  except  in  Burman,  and  remained  silent. 


THE   CHILD   OF   THE   GANGES.  233 

It  was  now  growing  dark.  The  flaring  earth-oil  light 
began  to  reveal  dimly  the  silent  forms  lying  in  every 
conceivable  attitude  on  the  floor.  The  Tiger  and  the 
Thief  now  approached  the  line  of  white  bodies  upon  the 
floor,  bearing  a  long  bamboo  pole.  This  they  passed 
between  the  ankles  of  each,  just  above  the  three  pairs 
of  fetters.  Then  placing  the  ends  in  the  loops  from 
ropes  hanging  from  the  rafters,  they  drew  them  up  by 
means  of  pulleys,  till  the  prisoners  rested  only  on  the 
backs  of  their  necks,  almost  their  whole  weight  sup 
ported  by  the  fetters,  which,  coming  together,  pinched 
and  cut  the  flesh  in  a  fearful  manner. 

Thus  shackled,  poor  Judson  lay  helpless  as  a  babe. 
Added  to  his  physical  sufferings  was  the  still  more 
severe  mental  torture  of  anxiety  for  his  family.  Ann  who 
had  dared  so  much  with  him,  and  had  been  such  a 
devoted  help-meet  to  him,  what  would  become  of  her 
in  the  hands  of  those  hard-hearted  officers?  Yet  he 
never  lost  faith  in  God.  Sleep  was  impossible.  Some- 
one suggested,  "Let  us  pray,"  which  each  one  did, after 
which  they  felt  stronger  to  bear  their  sufferings,  and 
like  Paul  and  Silas,  even  sang  hymns  through  the  night. 
Thuc  they  wore  away  the  first  long  night. 

Next  morning  the  kind-hearted  jailer  returned,  and 
graciously  lowered  the  bamboo  pole  to  within  a  foot  of 
the  ground,  which  allowed  the  blood  once  more  to  cir- 
culate through  their  benumbed  limbs. 

The  door  opened  and  Moung  Ing  appeared  with  food, 
not  only  for  Mr.  Judson,  but  for  his  companions. 

"  Give  me  a  present,"  demanded  the  Thief  at  the  door. 

Moung  Ing  put  a  piece  of  silver  in  his  hand  and  pro- 
ceeded to  the  place  where  the  teacher  was  lying  with 


234         THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

his  comrades  in  misery.  But  the  unwholesome  odors 
pervading  the  place,  and  the  idea  of  eating  with 
unwashed  hands,  destroyed  their  appetites,  and  they 
only  derived  comfort  from  inquiring  of  Moung  Ing  the 
condition  of  their  families. 

That  day  passed.  The -sun  beat  against  the  thin 
sides  of  the  building.  The  air  was  close  and  swelter- 
ing. The  temperature  stood  above  100°,  and  the  perspi- 
ration almost  streamed  from  their  bodies,  and  saturat- 
ing their  scanty  clothes  which,  coming,  in  that  state,  in 
contact  with  the  dust  of  the  floor,  soon  acquired  a  color 
better  imagined  than  described. 

Another  night;  hoisted  bamboo;  and  groans  and 
prayers. 

On  the  morrow  a  voice  was  heard  without  the  door. 
The  prisoners  started.  What  music  to  their  ears ! 
Surely  this  loathsome  place  had  never  before  heard  any- 
thing so  sweet.  The  guards  grumbled  but  the  voice 
overcame.  The  little  door  opened  and  a  face  appeared, 
a  beautiful  white  face,  witb  head  of  curly  locks.  Was 
it  an  angel?  Aye,  more.  An  angel  would  not  have 
been  so  welcome,  at  least  to  Mr.  Judson.  He  was  now 
allowed  to  slip  his  feet  from  the  pole  and  drag  himself 
to  the  door.  But  the  meeting  that  was  anticipated 
with  so  much  pleasure  was  painful  to  both.  Revealed 
by  the  light  of  day,  he  stood  with  begrimed  and  impure 
exterior,  a  death-like  pallor  over  his  features,  his 
face  unshaven,  and  hair  disheveled.  The  poor  wife, 
having  last  seen  him  so  neat,  had  not  anticipated  this, 
and  at  sight  of  him  she  covered  her  face  with  her  hands 
in  horror.  Only  a  few  words  were  they  allowed  to  speak 
wilh  each  other,  when  the  guard  ordered  her  to  come  out. 


THE   CHILD   OP   THE   GANGES. 


235 


"  I  have  an  order  from  the  governor  to  come  here," 
she  pleaded. 

"  Come  out,"  he  demanded  sternly,  "  or  I  will  pull 
you  out,"  and  he  seized  her  by  the  arm.  She  drew 
back  from  the  door.  The  shutter  was  closed,  leaving 
all   once   more   in   darkness   and   gloom.      Yet,  "All 

THINGS  WORK    TOGETHER   FOR    GOOD    TO    THEM    THAT  LOVE 

<rOD."     Is  it  true?     It  is,  but  how  hard  to  believe ! 


CHAPTER  III. 

M  And  were  not  these  high  words  to  flow 
From  woman's  breaking  heart? 
Through  all  that  night  of  bitterest  woe 

She  bore  her  lofty  part ; 
But  oh !  with  such  a  freezing  eye, 

With  such  a  curdling  cheek ! 
Love,  love !  of  mortal  agony, 
Thou,  only  thou  shouldst  speak ! " 

—Gertrude,  from  Mrs.  Jlemans. 

The  death-prison  has  a  remarkable,  yet  well-selected 
and  appropriate  motto — Let-ma-yoon,  "  hand,  shrink 
not."     Says  Mr.  Gouger  in  describing  their  tortures : 

"  It  contemplates  the  extreme  of  human  suffering, 
and  when  this  has  reached  a  point  at  which  our  nature 
recoils — when  it  is  supposed  that  any  one  bearing  the 
human  form  might  well  refuse  to  be  the  instrument  to 
add  to  it,  the  hand  of  the  executioner  is  apostrophized 
and  encouraged  not  to  follow  the  dictates  of  the  heart : 
*  Thine  eye  shall  not  pity  and  thine  hand  not  spare.' " 

New  prisoners  arrived  daily,  and  almost  every  day, 
at  a  certain  hour,  an  executioner  came  in,  and  laying 
his  hand  on  his  victim's  shoulder,  led  him  forth  as  a 
sheep  to  the  slaughter.  Such  scenes  kept  the  prisoners 
in  continual  terror,  for  no  one  knew  but  that  he  would 
be  the  next  one  called,  and  the  missionaries,  as  they 
saw  so  many  hurried  away  without  a  moment's  prepara- 
tion, felt  more  and  more  the  force  of  the  Saviour's 
admonition,  "BE  YE  ALSO  READY."  One  event, 
however,  aroused  them  more  than  all  else.     But  my  pen 

(236) 


THE   CHILD    OF   THE   GANGES.  237 

refuses  to  paint  the  scene,  and  I  surrender  it  to  another. 
Mrs.  Emily  C.  Judson  will  finish  the  chapter. 
........ 

11  The  arrival  of  a  new  prisoner  was  an  incident  calculated 
to  excite  but  little  interest  in  the  hat-wearers,  provided  he  came 
in  turban  and  waist  cloth .  But  one  morning  there  was  brought 
in  a  young  man  speaking  the  Burmese  brokenly,  and  with  the 
soft  accent  of  the  North,  who  at  once  attracted  universal  atten- 
tion. He  was  tall  and  erect,  with  a  mild,  handsome  face,  bear- 
ing the  impress  of  inexpressible  suffering ;  a  complexion 
slightly  tinted  with  the  rich  brown  of  the  East ;  a  fine,  manly 
carriage,  and  a  manner  which,  even  there,  was  both  graceful 
and  dignified. 

"'Who  is  he?'  was  the  interpretation  of  the  inquiring 
glances  exchanged  among  those  who  had  no  liberty  to  speak  ; 
and  then  eye  asked  of  eye,  '  What  can  he  have  done  ?  He  is 
so  gentle,  so  mild,  so  manly,  that  even  these  wretches,  who 
scarcely  know  the  name  of  pity  and  respect,  seem  to  feel  both 
for  him.'  There  was,  in  truth,  something  in  the  countenance 
of  the  new  prisoner  which,  without  asking  for  sympathy, 
involuntarily  enforced  it.  It  was  not  amiability,  though  his 
dark,  soft,  beautiful  eye  was  full  of  a  noble  sweetness  ;  it  was 
not  resignation  ;  it  was  not  apathy  ;  it  was  hopelessness,  deep, 
utter,  immovable,  suffering  hopelessness.  Very  young,  and 
apparently  not  ambitious  or  revengeful,  what  crime  could  this 
interesting  stranger  have  committed  to  draw  down  *  the  golden 
foot'  with  such  crushing  weigh1:  on  bis  devoted  head?  He 
seemed  utterly  friendless,  and  even  without  the  means  of  obtain- 
ing food  ;  for,  as  the  day  advanced,  no  one  came  to  see  him,  and 
the  officer  who  brought  him  had  left  no  directions.  lie  did 
not,  however,  suffer  from  this  neglect,  for  M.dam  Thief  (most 
wonderful  to  relate!)  actually  shared  so  deeply  in  the  universal 
sympathy  as  to  bring  him  a  small  quantity  of  boiled  rice  and 
water. 

"Toward  evening  the  Woon-bai,  a  governor,  or  rather  mayor 
of  the  city,  entered  the  prison,  his  bold,  lion-like  face  as  open 
and  unconcerned  as  ever,  but  with  something  of  unusual 
bustling  In  his  manner. 


238  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

11  'Where  is  he?'  he  cried  sternly,  'where  is  he,  this  sou  of 
Kathay — this  dog,  villain,  traitor!  where  is  he?  Aha!  only 
one  pair  of  irons?    Put  on  rive!    Do  you  hear?  five  ! ' 

"  The  Woon-bai  waited  till  his  orders  were  executed,  and 
the  poor  Kathayan  was  loaded  with  five  pairs  of  fetters  ;  and 
then  he  went  out,  frowning  on  one  and  smiling  on  another, 
all  white  children  of  the  prison  watched  his  coun'enance  and 
manner  as  significant  of  what  was  expected  of  them.  The 
prisoners  looked  at  each  other,  and  shook  their  heads  in  com- 
miseration. 

"The  next  day  the  feet  of  the  young  Kathayan,  in  obe- 
dience to  some  new  order,  were  placed  in  the  s'ocks,  which 
raised  them  about  eighteen  inches  from  the  ground,  and  the 
five  pairs  of  fetters  were  all  disposed  on  the  outer  side  of  the 
plank,  so  that  their  entire  weight  fell  upon  the  ankles.  The 
position  was  so  painful  that  each  prisoner,  some  from  memory, 
some  from  sympatheic  apprehension,  shared  in  the  pain  when 
he  looked  at  the  sjfTerer. 

"  During  this  day,  one  of  the  missionaries,  who  had  .^ee 
honored  with  an  invitation,  which  it  was  never  prudent  to 
refuse,  to  the  hut  of  the  thief,  learned  something  of  the  his'ory 
of  the  young  man  and  his  crime.  His  home,  it  was  told  him, 
wag  among  the  rich  hills  of  Kathay,  as  they  range  far  north- 
ward, where  the  tropic  sun  loses  the  intense  fierceness  of  his 
blaze,  and  makes  the  atmosphere  soft  and  luxurious,  as  though 
it  were  mellowing  beneath  the  same  amber  sky  which  ripens 
the  fruits,  and  gives  their  glow  to  the  flowers.  What  had 
been  his  rank  in  his  own  land,  the  jailer's  wife  did  not  know. 
Perhaps  he  had  been  a  prince,  chief  of  the  brave  band  con- 
quered by  the  superior  forces  of  the  Burmans  ;  or  a  hunter 
among  the  spicy  groves  and  deep-woo'led  jungles,  lithe  as  the 
tiger  which  he  pursued  from  lair  to  lair,  and  free  as  the  flame- 
winged  bird  of  the  sun  that  circled  above  him  ;  or  perhaps  his 
destiny  had  been  a  humbler  one,  and  he  had  but  followed  the 
goats  as  they  bounded  from  ledge  to  ledge,  and  plucked  for 
food  the  herbs  upon  his  native  hills.  He  had  been  brought 
away  by  a  marauding  party,  and  presented  as  a  slave  to  the 
brother  of  the  queen.     This  Men-thah-gyee,  the  Great  Prince, 


THE    CHILD    OF    THE    GANGES.  239 

as  he  was  called  by  way  of  pre-eminence,  had  risen,  through 
the  influence  of  his  sister,  from  the  humble  position  of  a  fish- 
monger, to  be  the  Richelieu  of  the  nation.  Unpopular  from  h;s 
mean  origin,  and  still  more  unpopular  from  the  acts  of  brutal- 
ity to  which  the  intoxication  of  power  had  given  rise,  the  sym- 
pathy excited  by  the  poor  Kathayan  in  the  breasts  of  these 
wretches  may  easily  be  accounted  for.  It  was  not  pity  or 
mercy,  but  hatred.  Anywhere  else,  the  sufferer's  sad,  hand- 
some face,  and  mild  uncomplaining  manner,  would  have 
enlisted  sympathy  ;  but  here,  they  would  scarcely  have  seen 
the  sadness,  or  beauty,  or  mildness,  except  through  the  medi- 
um of  a  passion  congenial  to  their  own  natures. 

"Among  the  other  slaves  of  Men-thah-gyee,  was  a  young 
Kathay  girl  of  singular  beauty.  She  was,  so  said  Madam,  the 
thief,  a  bundle  of  roses,  set  round  with  blossoms  of  the  cham- 
pac  tree  ;  her  breath  was  like  that  of  the  breezes  when  they 
come  up  from  their  dalliance  with  the  spicy  daughters  of  the 
islands  of  the  South  ;  her  voice  had  caught  its  rich  cadence 
from  the  musical  gush  of  the  silver  fountain,  which  wakes 
among  the  green  of  her  native  hills  ;  her  hair  had  been  braided 
from  the  glossy  raven  plumage  of  the  royal  edolius  ;  her  eyes 
were  twin  stars  looking  out  from  cool  springs,  all  fringed  with 
the  long  tremulous  reeds  of  the  jungle  ;  and  her  step  was  as 
the  free,  graceful  bound  of  the  wild  antelope.  On  the  subject 
of  her  beauty,  her  grace  and  her  wondrous  daring,  the  jailer's 
wife  could  not  be  sufficiently  eloquent.  And  so  this  poor, 
proud,  simple-souled  maiden,  this  diamond  from  the  rich  hills 
of  Kathay,  destined  to  glitter  for  an  hour  or  two  on  a  prince's 
bosom,  unsubdued  even  in  the  desolation,  had  dared  to  bestow 
her  affections  with  the  uncalculating  loveliness  of  conscious 
heart-freedom.  And  the  poor  wretch,  lying  upon  his  back  in 
the  death-prison,  his  feet  fast  in  the  stocks  and  swelling  and 
purpling  beneath  the  heavy  irons,  had  participated  in  her 
crime ;  had  lured  her  on,  by  tender,  glances  and  by  loving 
words,  inexpressibly  sweet  in  their  mutual  bondage,  to  irre- 
trievable destruction .  What  fears,  what  hopes  winged  by  fears, 
what  tremulous  joys,  still  hedged  in  by  that  same  crowd  of 
fears,  what  despondency,  what  revulsions  of  impotent  anger 


240  THE    CHILD    OF    THE    GANGES. 

and  daring,  what  weeping,  what  despair  must  have  been 
theirs!  Their  tremblings  and  rejoicings,  their  mad  projects, 
growing  each  day  wilder  and  more  dangerous — since  madness 
alone  could  have  given  rise  to  anything  like  hope — are  things 
left  to  imagination  ;  for  there  was  none  to  relate  the  heart-his- 
tory of  the  two  slaves  of  Men-thah-gyee.  Yet  there  were  some 
hints  of  a  first  accidental  meeting  under  the  shadow  of  the 
mango  and  tamarind  trees,  where  the  sun  lighted  up,  by  irreg- 
ular gushes,  the  waters  of  the  little  lake  in  the  center  of  the 
garden,  and  the  rustle  of  leaves  seemed  sufficient  to  drown  the 
accents  of  their  native  tongues.  So  they  looked,  spoke,  their 
hearts  bounded,  paused,  trembled  with  soft  home-memories 
— they  whispered  on  and  they  were  lost.     Poor  slaves  ! 

"Then  at  evening,  when  the  dark-browed  maidens  of  the 
golden  city,  gathered  with  their  earthen  vessels  about  the  well, 
there,  shaded  by  the  thick  clumps  of  bamboo,  with  the  free  sky 
overhead,  the  green  earth  beneath,  and  the  songs  and  laugh- 
ter of  the  merry  girls  ringing  in  their  ears,  so  like  their  old 
home,  the  home  which  they  had  lost  forever — oh  what  a  rare, 
sweet,  dangerous  meeting-place  for  those  who  should  not,  and 
yet  must  be  lovers  ! 

"  Finally  came  a  day  fraught  with  illimitable  consequences  ; 
the  day  when  the  young  slave,  not  yet  admitted  to  the  royal 
harem,  should  become  more  than  ever  the  property  of  her  mas- 
ter. And  now  deeper  grew  their  agony,  more  uncontrollable 
their  madness,  wilder  and  more  daring  their  hopes,  with  every 
passing  moment.  Not  a  man  in  Ava  but  would  have  told 
them  that  escape  was  impossible  ;  and  yet,  goaded  on  by  love 
and  despair,  they  attempted  the  impossibility.  They  .had 
countrymen  in  the  city,  and,  under  cover  of  night,  they  fled  to 
them.  Immediately  the  minister  sent  out  his  myrmidons — 
they  were  tracked,  captured,  and  brought  back  to  the  palace. 

u  'And  what  became  of  the  poor  girl?'  inquired  the  mis- 
sionary with  much  interest. 

"The  woman,  shuddered,  and  beneath  her  scars  and  the 
swarthiness  of  her  skin,  she  became  deadly  pale. 

'"There  is  a  cellar,  Tsayah,'  at  last  she  whispered,  still 
shuddering,  '  a  deep  cellar,  that  no  one  has  seen,  but  horrible 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.         241 

cries  come  from  it  sometimes,  and  two  nights  ago,  for  three 
hours,  three  long  hours— such  shrieks  !  Amai-ai !  What  shrieks! 

"And  they  say  that  he  was  there,  Tsayah,  and  saw  and 
heard  it  all.  That  is  the  reason  that  his  eyes  are  blinded  and 
his  ears  benumbed.  A  great  many  go  into  that  cellar,  but  none 
ever  come  out  again — none  but  the  doomed  like  him.  It  is — it 
is  like  the  West  Prison,  she  added,  sinking  her  voice  still  lower, 
and  casting  an  eager,  alarmed  look  about  her.  The  mission- 
ary, too,  shuddered,  as  much  at  the  mention  of  this  prison  as 
at  the  recital  of  the  woman  ;  for  it  shut  within  its  walls  deep 
mysteries,  which  even  his  jailers,  accustomed  as  they  were  to 
torture  and  death,  shrank  from  babbling  of. 

11  The  rfext  day  a  cord  was  passed  around  the  wrists  of  the 
young  Kathayan,  his  arm  jerked  up  into  a  position  perpen- 
dicular with  his  prostrate  body,  and  the  end  of  the  cord  fas- 
tened to  a  beam  overhead.  Still,  though  faint  from  the  lack 
of  food,  parched  with  thirst  and  racked  with  pain — for  his 
feet  were  swollen  and  livid — not  a  murmur  of  complaint 
escaped  his  lips.  And  yet  this  patient  endurance  seemed 
scarcely  the  result  of  fortitude  or  heroism.  An  observer 
would  have  said  that  the  inner  suffering  was  so  great  as  to 
render  that  of  the  mere  physical  frame  unheeded.  There  was 
the  same  expression  of  hopelessness,  the  same  unvarying 
wretchedness,  too  deep,  too  real,  to  think  of  giving  itself 
utterance  on  the  face,  as  at  his  first  entrance  into  the  prison, 
and  except  that  now  and  then  he  fixed  on  one  of  the  hopeless 
beings  who  regarded  him  in  silent  pity,  a  mournful,  half-be- 
seeching, half-vacant  stare — this  was  all. 

"That  day  passed  away,  as  others  had  done;  then  came  a 
night  of  dreams,  in  which  loved  ones  gathered  around  the 
hearthstone  of  a  dear,  familiar  home — dreams  broken  by  the 
clanking  of  chains  and  the  groans  of  the  suffering  ;  and  then 
morning  broke.  There  still  hung  the  poor  Kathayan,  his  face 
slightly  distorted  with  the  agony  he  was  suffering,  his  lips 
dry  and  parched,  his  cheek  pallid  and  sunken  and  his  eyes 
wild  and  glaring.  His  breast  swelled  and  heaved,  and  now 
and  then  a  sob-like  sigh  burst  forth  involuntarily.  When  the 
Tiger  entered,  the  eye  of  the  young  man  immediately  fastened 
18 


242  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

on  him  and  a  shiver  passed  through  his  frame.  The  old  mur- 
derer went  his  usual  rounds  with  great  nonchalance,  gave  an 
order  here,  a  blow  there,  and  cracked  a  malicious  joke  with  a 
third,  smiling  all  the  time  that  dark,  sinister  smile  which 
made  him  so  much  more  hideous  in  the  midst  of  his  wicked- 
ness. At  last  he  approached  the  Kathayan,  who,  with  a  con- 
vulsive movement,  half  raised  himself  from  the  ground  at  his 
touch  and  seemed  to  contract  like  a  shrivelled  leaf. 

'"Eight!  right,  my  son!'  said  the  old  man,  chuckling. 
'  You  are  expert  at  helping  yourself,  to  be  sure ;  but,  then,  you 
need  assistance.  So,  so,  so  !'  and  giving  the  cord  three  succes- 
sive jerks,  he  succeeded,  by  means  of  his  immense  strength, 
in  raising  the  Kathayan  so  that  but  the  back  of  his* head,  as 
it  fell  downward,  could  touch  the  floor.  There  was  a  quick, 
short  crackling  of  joints,  and  a  groan  escaped  the  prisoner. 
Another  groan  followed,  and  then  another  and  another ;  a 
heaving  of  the  chest,  a  convulsive  shiver,  and  for  a  moment 
he  seemed  lost.  Human  hearts  glanced  heavenward.  'God 
grant  it !  Father  of  mercies,  spare  him  further  agony  !'  It 
could  not  be.  Gaspingly  came  the  last  breath  back  again, 
quiveringly  the  soft  eyes  unclosed,  and  the  young  Kathayan 
captive  was  fully  awake  to  his  miseries. 

11  'I  cannot  die  so  ;  I  cannot !  So  slow  !  so  slow  !  so  slow  V 
Hunger  gnawed,  thirst  burned,  fever  revelled  in  his  veins;  the 
cord  upon  hi3  wrists  cut  to  the  bone  ;  corruption  had  already 
commenced  upon  his  swollen,  livid  feet ;  the  most  frightful, 
torturing  pains  distorted  his  body,  and  wrung  from  him 
groans  and  murmurings  so  pitiful,  so  harrowing,  so  full  of 
anguish,  that  the  unwilling  listeners  could  only  turn  away 
their  heads  or  life  their  eyes  to  each  other's  faces  in  mute 
horror.  Not  a  word  was  exchanged  among  them — not  a  lip 
had  power  to  give  it  utterance. 

"'I  cannot  die  so  !  I  cannot  die  so  !  I  cannot  die  so  ! '  came 
the  words — at  first  moaningly,  and  then  prolonged  to  a  terri- 
ble howl.  And  so  passed  another  day  and  another  night,  and 
still  the  wretch  lived  on. 

"  In  the  midst  of  their  filth  and  smothering  heat,  the  pri- 
soners awoke  from  such  troubled  sleep  as  they  could  gain 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  243 

amid  these  horrors  ;  and  those  who  could,  pressed  their  fever- 
ish lips  and  foreheads  to  the  crevices  between  the  boards  to 
court  the  morning  breezes.  A  lady  with  a  white  brow,  and  a 
lip  whose  delicate  vermillion  had  not  ripened  beneath,  the 
skies  of  India,  came  with  food  to  her  husband*  By  constant 
importunities  had  the  beautiful  ministering  angel  gained  this 
holy  privilege.  Her  coming  was  like  a  gleam  of  sunlight— a 
sudden  unfolding  of  the  beauties  of  this  brigh;  earth  to  one 
born  blind;  She  performed  her  usual  tender  ministry  and 
departed. 

"Day  advanced  to  its  meridian,  and  once  more,  but  now 
hesitatingly,  as  if  he  dreaded  his  task,  the  Tiger  drew  near  the 
young  Kathayan.  But  the  sufferer  did  not  shrink  from  him 
as  before. 

1  'Quick!'  he  exclaimed  greedily.  'Quick!  give  me  one 
hand  and  the  cord ;  just  a  moment,  a  single  moment — this 
hand,  with  the  cord  in  it — and  you  shall  be  rid  of  me  forever !' 

"The  Tiger  burst  into  a  hideous  laugh,  his  habitual  cruelty 
returning  at  the  sound  of  hi3  victim'.^  voicec 

"  ' Bid  of  you?  Not  so  fast,  my  son ;  not  so  fast.  You  will 
hold  out  a  day  or  two  yet.  Let  me  see ' — passing  his  hand 
along  the  emaciated  feverish  body  of  the  sufferer.  '  Oh,  yes ; 
two  days,  at  least — perhaps  three ;  and  it  may  be  longer. 
Patien3e,  my  son.  You  are  frightfully  strong!  Now,  these 
joints — why,  any  other  man's  would  have  separated  long  ago ; 
but  here  they  stay  just  as  firmly' — .  As  he  spoke  with  a  calcu- 
lating sort  of  deliberation,  the  monster  gave  the  cord  a  sudden 
jerk,  then  another,  and  a  third,  raising  his  victim  still  farther 
from  tha  floor,  and  then  adjusting  it  about  the  beam,  walked 
unconcernedly  away.  For  several  minutes  the  prison  rang 
witii  the  most  fearful  dies.  Shriek  followed  shriek — ago- 
nized, furious — with  scar?,^ly  a  breath  between  ;  bellowings, 
bowlings,  gnashings  :f  the  te jth  ;  sharp,  piercing  screams ; 
yells  of  savage  defiance;  cry  upon  cry,  cry  upon  cry;  with 
wild,  superhuman  str^mrth  they  came ;  while  the  prisoners 
shrank  in  a*ve  and  terror,  trembling  in  their  chains.  But  this 
violence  soon  exhaust3d  itself  and  the  paroxysm  passed,  giv- 
ing place  to  low,  sad  moans,  irresistibly  pitiful.    This  was  a 


244  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

day  never  to  be  forgotten  by  the  hundred  wretched  creatures 
congregated  in  the  gloomy  death-prison.  The  sun  had  never 
seemed  to  move  so  slowly  before.  Its  setting  was  gladly  wel- 
comed ;  but  yet  the  night  brought  no  change.  Those  piteous 
moans,  those  agonized  groanings  seemed  no  nearer  an  end 
than  ever. 

"Another  day  passed— another  night;  again  day  dawned 
and  drew  near  its  close  ;  and  yet  the  poor  Kathayan  clung  to 
life  with  frightful  tenacity.  One  of  the  missionaries,  as  a 
peculiar  favor,  had  been  allowed  to  creep  into  an  old  shed 
opposite  the  door  of  the  prison,  and  here  he  was  joined  by  a 
companion  j  ust  as  the  day  was  declining  towards  evening. 

11 '  Oh !  will  it  ever  end  ? '  whispered  one. 

14  The  other  bowed  his  head  between  his  hands.  '  Terrible  ! 
terrible !' 

11 '  There  surely  can  be  nothing  worse  in  the  West  Prison. ' 

11 '  Can  there  be  anything  worse — can  there  be  more  finished 
demons  in  the  pit?' 

"Suddenly,  while  this  broken  conversation  was  conducted 
in  a  low  tone,  so  as  not  to  draw  upon  the  speakers  the  indig- 
nation of  their  jailer::,  they  were  struck  by  the  singular  still- 
ness of  the  prison.  The  clanking  of  chains,  the  murmur  and 
the  groan,  the  heavy  breathing  of  congregated  living  beings, 
the  bustle  occasioned  by  the  continuous  uneasy  movement  of 
the  restless  sufferers,  the  ceaseless  tread  of  the  Children  of  the 
Prison  and  their  bullying  voices,  all  were  hushed. 

11 '  What  is  it?'  in  a  lower  whisper  than  ever,  and  a  shaking 
of  the  head,  and  holding  their  own  chains  to  prevent  their 
rattle,  and  looks  full  of  wonder,  was  all  that  passed  between 
the  two  listeners.  Their  amazement  was  interrupted  by  a 
dull,  heavy  sound,  as  though  a  bag  of  dried  bones  had  been 
suddenly  crushed  down  by  the  weight  of  some  powerful  foot. 
Silently  they  stole  to  a  crevice  in  the  boards  opposite  the 
open  door.  Not  a  jailer  was  to  be  seen,  and  the  prisoners 
were  motionless  and  apparently  breathless,  with  the  exception 
of  one  powerful  man,  who  was  just  drawing  the  wooden  mal- 
let in  his  hand  for  another  blow  on  the  temple  of  the  sus- 
pended Kathayan.     It  came  down  with  the  same  dull,  hol« 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  245 

low,  crushing  sound.  The  body  swayed  from  the  point  where 
it  was  held  by  wrist  and  ankle  till  it  seemed  that  every  joint 
must  be  dislocated  ;  but  the  flesh  scarcely  quivered.  The  blow 
was  repeated,  and  then  another  and  another ;  but  they  were 
not  needed.    The  poor  captive  Kathayan  was  dead. 

"The  mallet  was  placed  away  from  sight,  and  the  daring 
man  hobbled  back  to  his  corner,  dangling  his  heavy  chain  as 
though  it  had  been  a  plaything,  and  striving  with  all  his 
might  to  look  unconscious  and  unconcerned.  An  evident  feel- 
ing of  relief  stole  over  the  prisoners,  the  Children  of  the  Prison 
came  back  to  their  places  one  by  one,  and  all  went  on  as 
before.  It  was  some  time  before  any  one  appeared  to  discover 
the  death  of  the  Kathayan.  The  old  Tiger  declared  it  was 
what  he  had  been  expecting  ;  that  his  living  on  in  this  man- 
ner was  quite  out  of  rule  ;  but  that  these  hardy  fellows  from 
the  hills  never  would  give  in  while  there  was  a  possibility 
of  drawing  another  breath.  Then  the  poor  skeleton  was 
unchained,  dragged  by  the  heels  into  the  prison  yard  and 
thrown  into  a  gutter.  It  did  not,  apparently,  fall  properly, 
for  one  of  the  jailers  altered  the  position  of  the  shoulders  by 
means  of  his  foot;  then  clutching  the  long,  biack  hair,  jerked 
the  head  a  little  further  on  the  side.  Thus  the  discolored 
temple  was  hidden  ;  and  surely  that  emaciated  form  gave  suf- 
ficient evidence  of  a  lingering  death.  Soon  after,  a  party  of 
government  officers  visited  the  prison  yard,  touched  the  corpse 
with  their  feet  without  raising  it,  and,  apparently  satisfied, 
turned  away  as  though  it  had  been  a  dead  dog  that  they  cared 
not  to  give  further  attention." 


CHAPTER  IV. 


1  This  is  truth  the  poet  sings, 
That  a  sorrow's  crown  of  sorrow 
Is  remembering  happier  things." 


*    *    *    * 


On  the  day  after  Mrs.  Judson's  first  visit  to  the  gov- 
ernor and  the  prison,  Mr.  Gouger's  property,  to  the 
amount  of  fifty  thousand  rupees,  was  confiscated,  and 
the  officers,  in  passing,  informed  Mrs.  Judson  that  they 
would  call  on  her  the  next  day.  Taking  advantage  of 
this  warning,  she  secreted  as  many  articles  of  value  as 
possible,  together  with  considerable  silver  and  Mr.  Jud- 
son's manuscript  translation  of  the  New  Testament. 
It  was  a  hazardous  thing  to  do,  for  if  it  had  been 
discovered  it  would  have  caused  her  being  thrown 
into  prison — in  which  case  she  could  no  longer  minis- 
ter to  her  husband. 

The  following  morning  the  royal  treasurer,  with  the 
governor  and  another  nobleman,  attended  by  forty  or 
fifty  followers,  came  to  take  possession  of  their  prop- 
erty in  the  king's  name.  She  did  not  become  in  the  least 
frightened  nor  lose  her  presence  of  mind,  though  evi- 
dently deeply  affected  at  the  thought  of  being  deprived 
of  all  they  had.  She  received  them  civilly,  gave  them 
chairs  to  sit  on — quite  a  luxury  to  an  Oriental — and 
placed  her  nicest  tea  and  sweetmeats  for  their  refresh- 
ment. Only  the  three  officers,  accompanied  by  the 
royal  secretary,  entered  the  house,  the  attendants  being 
ordered  to  remain  without. 

(246) 


THE    CHILD    OF    THE   GANGES.  247 

Moung  Shwa-loo,  seeing  the  distress  of  the  woman 
whom  he  had  promised  the  prince  to  defend,  felt  very 
reluctant  to  lay  his  hands  on  anything  in  the  house; 
yet  he  must  make  a  show  of  confiscation,  as  he  was 
compelled  to  report  to  the  king.  He  sincerely  apolo- 
gized for  the  deed,  and  told  her  how  painful  it  was  to 
him  to  take  that  which  was  not  his  oavu.  But  the 
treasurer,  ignorant  of  the  circumstances  that  prompted 
this  kindness  of  the  governor,  proceeded  at  once  to  busi- 
ness. 

"Where  are  your  silver,  gold  and  jewels?"  he 
inquired. 

"I  have  no  gold  or  jewels,"  she  said;  "but  here  is 
the  key  that  unlocks  the  trunk  containing  the  silver. 
Do  with  it  as  you  please." 

The  trunk  was  opened,  the  silver  weighed,  and  a  note 
taken  of  the  amount. 

"  This  silver,"  she  said,  "  was  collected  in  America 
by  the  disciples  of  Christ  to  build  a  priest's  dwelling 
and  for  our  support  while  preaching  the  religion  of 
Jesus.     Is  it  suitable  that  you  should  take  it  ?  " 

She  knew  the  Burmese  were  averse  to  taking  any- 
thing offered  for  religious  purposes. 

"  We  will  state  the  circumstances  to  the  king,"  said 
the  treasurer;  " perhaps  he  will  return  it.  But  is  this 
all  the  silver  you  have  ?  " 

"  The  house  is  in  your  possession.  Search  for  your- 
selves." 

"  Have  you  not  deposited  silver  with  some  person  of 
your  acquaintance?  " 

"  My  acquaintances  are  all  in  prison.  With  whom 
should  I  deposit  silver?  " 


248  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

The  governor  evidently  suspected  that  she  had  con- 
cealed the  articles ;  but  he  had  gone  as  far  as  he  was 
compelled  to  do  by  the  king's  decree,  and  quickly 
changed  the  subject  by  calling  for  the  trunks  and 
drawers.  Neither  he  nor  the  treasurer  touched  these, 
but  asked  the  secretary  to  accompany  Mrs.  Judson  in 
the  search.  Everything  he  found  nice  or  curious  was 
presented  to  them,  to  decide  whether  or  not  she  should 
be  allowed  to  keep  it.  When  the  wearing  apparel  was 
produced,  she  begged  them  not  to  take  that,  as  it  would 
be  disgraceful  to  carry  partly-worn  clothing  into  the 
presence  of  the  king.  They  assented  to  this,  and  merely 
took  a  list — as  they  did  also  with  the  books  and  medi- 
cine By  a  cunning  artifice,  she  also  persuaded  them 
that  it  would  be  improper  to  take  her  little  work-table 
and  rocking-chair,  which  had  been  presented  her  by 
friends  in  America ;  yet  they  appropriated  everything 
that  could  be  of  service  to  his  majesty  and  departed. 
She  gave  a  sigh  of  relief  as  they  passed  out,  leaving 
so  many  articles  of  inestimable  value  during  the 
approaching  hardships ;  but  her  eyes  filled  with  tears 
to  see  her  many  little  comforts  and  mementoes  of 
friends  and  relatives  borne  away  on  the  shoulders  of 
Burman  slaves. 

The  officers  reported  to  the  king : 

"  Judson  is  a  true  teacher.  We  found  nothing  in  his 
house  but  what  belongs  to  priests.  In  addition  to  this 
money,  there  are  an  immense  number  of  books,  medi- 
cines, trunks  of  wearing  apparel,  &c,  of  which  we  only 
took  a  list.     Shall  we  take  them,  or  let  them  remain?" 

"Let  them  remain,"  replied  his  majesty;  "and  put 
this  property  by  itself,  for  it  shall  be  restored  again  if 
he  is  found  innocent," 


THE   CHILD   OF   THE   GANGES.  249 

Mrs.  Judson,  by  her  continual  entreaty,  had  pre- 
vailed on  the  wife  of  the  queen's  brother  to  intercede, 
through  the  queen,  for  Mr.  Judson's  release.  As  soon 
as  the  officers  left  her  house  she  flew  to  the  house  of 
the  queen's  brother,  anxious  to  know  the  result  of  her 
petition.     But  she  was  met  by  the  cool  answer : 

"  I  stated  your  case  to  the  queen ;  but  her  majesty 
replied,  '  The  teachers  will  not  die ;  let  them  remain  as 
they  are.' " 

Her  hopes  had  been  high;  but  this  news  was  like  a 
thunder-clap  to  her  feelings,  and  she  was,  for  a  moment, 
almost  in  despair;  for  if  the  queen  refused, who  would 
dare  to  intercede  before  the  Golden  Face  for  a  foreigner 
in  disgrace?  Sadly  she  turned  away  to  return,  with  a 
heavy  heart,  to  her  home,  two  miles  from  the  city,  stop- 
ping at  the  prison  to  communicate  her  failure  to  Mr. 
Judson ;  but  the  gate  was  shut  and  she  was  harshly 
refused  admittance.  For  ten  days  she  was  not  allowed 
to  enter  again,  but  sent  food  for  the  white  prisoners  by 
Moung  Ing.  Yet  she  never  ceased  her  efforts.  Day 
after  day,  for  seven  long,  weary  months,  she  continued 
to  importune  some  members  of  government  to  inter- 
cede with  the  king  for  the  release  of  the  prisoners. 
Among  the  members  of  the  royal  family  she  made 
many  friends  by  these  visits,  who  really  desired  to  aid 
her;  but  their  influence  only  assisted  her  by  encour- 
aging promises  that  preserved  her  from  despair.  The 
governor  became  very  much  attached  to  her,  and  would 
send  for  her  if  by  any  means  she  failed  to  visit  him 
daily.  He  listened  with  eagerness  to  her  descriptions 
of  American  manners  and  customs,  arts  and  sciences. 
His  wife  also  bestowed  upon  her  a  mark  of  affection 


250         THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

by  presenting  her  with  a  handsome  Burman  costume, 
such  as  the  court  ladies  wear.  She  persuaded  her  to 
wear  this  while  in  the  city,  as  it  would  tend  to  concili- 
ate the  people.  Mali  Po,  a  sweet,  proud,  but  tender- 
hearted woman,  and  wife  of  a  chief  minister,  often 
braved  the  anger  of  the  king  to  give  rice  and  eggs  to 
the  white  lady,  with  which  to  feed  the  prisoners. 
Home  and  friends  were  forgotten  by  the  faithful  wife ; 
self  was  forgotten.  Not  a  fear  possessed  her  as  she 
trod  alone  the  burning  streets  of  that  wicked  heathen 
city,  where  pride  and  bigotry  ruled.  Her  only  thought 
was  of  a  husband  in  chains  and  how  to  relieve  him. 
She  did  not  even  shrink  from  the  brawny  frame  of  the 
Tiger,  the  cruel  face  of  the  spotted  Thief,  nor  the  hideous 
countenance  of  his  leprous  wife. 

One  day  she  was  detained  at  home  from  some  una- 
voidable cause,  and  consented  to  let  Moung  Ing  carry  the 
dinner  to  the  prison,  which  she  had  formerly  insisted 
upon  doing  herself,  when  allowed,  in  order  to  see  with 
her  own  eyes  how  her  husband  fared.  A  happy  thought 
struck  her :  she  would  make  for  Mr.  Judson  a  mince 
pie,  to  remind  him  of  home,  doubting  not  that  it  would 
bring  a  smile  to  his  face  even  in  the  midst  of  his  mis- 
ery. Her  ingenuity  in  collecting  material  for  this 
tempting  dish,  in  such  a  county,  must  be  equal  to  her 
perseverance  in  other  things ;  but  she  at  length  suc- 
ceeded to  her  satisfaction ;  and  there  was  the  old  spar- 
kle of  girlish  light  in  her  eyes  as  she  handed  the  dish 
to  Moung  Ing,  with  instructions  to  observe  closely  the 
teacher's  countenance  as  he  received  it.  Moung  Ing 
had  never  seen  the  sumptuous  tables  of  Plymouth  and 
Bradford,  but  he  conjectured  that  there  must  be  some- 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  251 

thing  nice  hidden  under  the  snowy  cloth,  itself  an 
unusual  sight  in  the  death-prison,  and  he  could  not 
restrain  a  smile  as  he  passed  it  to  Mr.  Judson. 

Lifting  the  cloth,  the  poor  captive  sat  for  a  moment 
in  mute  astonishment  at  what  he  would  have  consid- 
ered an  impossible  achievement  in  Ava.  Then  he 
thought  of  the  devotion  that  prompted  and  the  care 
that  produced  it.  Visions  rose  up  in  his  mind :  a  sweet 
face,  framed  in  dark  curls,  peering  through  the  half- 
open  door  into  the  gloomy  death-prison ;  a  delicate 
female  form,  standing  like  an  enchantress,  before  the 
august  tribunal  of  Burmese  authority  and  fearlessly 
pleading  for  him ;  a  faithful  wife,  two  miles  from  the 
city,  in  her  little  home  with  her  Burman  maidens, 
planning  pleasant  surprises  for  him.  Like  a  pano- 
rama these  scenes  passed  before  him ;  then  a  blank,  an 
ocean  voyage,  a  "  home  beyond  the  sea,"  father,  mother 
and  sisters ;  then,  as  he  gazed  into  the  depths  of  the 
dainty  dish,  a  fairer  picture.  He  was  again,  for  the 
first  time,  at  Bradford ;  his  companions  were  discuss- 
ing the  prospects  of  the  mission — he  could,  even  now, 
hear  their  eager  voices ;  a  sweet  girl,  with  maidenly 
grace  and  reserve,  passes  him  a  dainty  morsel,  like  this, 
and  in  a  modest  manner  invites  him  to  partake ;  he 
feels  her  presence  by  his  side,  once  more  the  flutter- 
ings  of  a  youthful  heart  with  its  first  love,  and  he 
reads  again  the  verses  in  his  plate.  As  in  a  dream,  he 
lifts  his  hand  to  the  dish;  it  is  begrimed  with  perspi- 
ration and  dust;  a  chain  on  his  wrist  rattles  against 
the  plate.  The  beautiful  vision  fades,  and  in  its  stead 
appear  the  dusty  beams  and  rafters  of  the  prison,  the 
stocks,  chains  and  dreadful  bamboo.     It  was  too  much. 


252         THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

Bowing  his  head  on  his  knees,  he  wept  like  a  child, 
and  thrusting  the  imtasted  dinner  into  the  hands  of 
his  companion,  he  hobbled  off  to  a  corner  to  weep 
alone.  That  brave  heart,  that  had  for  so  long  and  so 
manfully  withstood  the  cruelties  of  demons,  is  melted 
by  the  tender  recollections  of  a  faithful  woman's  love. 

The  war  down  the  river  was  now  raging.  To  the  sur- 
prise of  the  king,  the  terrible  name,  Golden  Face  had 
not  conveyed  the  least  terror  to  the  hearts  of  the 
trained  British  soldiers ;  the  invincible  army  that  had 
departed  with  such  assurance  of  success,  had  been  dis- 
pelled like  a  cloud  of  thistle-down  and  feathers ;  and 
their  golden  war-boats  crushed  like  gilded  egg-shells 
beneath  the  iron  keel  of  the  British  man-of-war.  But 
another  part  of  the  Burman  army,  stationed  in  Arra- 
can,  under  Bandoola,  was  having  greater  success,  hav- 
ing sent  three  hundred  prisoners  to  the  capital  at  one 
time.  His  majesty,  thinking  that  none  but  Bandoola 
understood  the  art  of  fighting  foreigners,  recalled  him 
to  take  charge  of  the  army  sent  to  Rangoon.  Arriving 
at  Ava,  he  wTas  received  with  great  pomp  and  ceremony, 
the  king  and  queen  doing  all  in  their  power  to  honor 
him.  The  affairs  of  the  war,  and  even  of  the  kingdom, 
were  given  into  his  hands  for  the  time. 

Mrs.  Judson  had  tried  every  resort  hitherto  for  the 
release  of  her  husband,  but  a  new  man  having  come 
into  authority,  she  decided  to  apply  to  him,  though 
several  of  her  friends  warned  her  not  to  do  so,  as  it 
would  likely  remind  him  of  the  existence  of  the  pris- 
oners, and  cause  their  immediate  execution.  But  it 
was  the  only  hope  and  she  could  not  let  the  opportunity 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.         253 

pass.  Mr.  Judson  himself  wrote  a  petition  which  she 
bore  "boldly  to  the  great  general.  He  received  her  very 
politely,  heard  the  petition  read  by  a  royal  secretary, 
and  after  inquiring  several  things  of  her  in  regard  to 
the  prisoners,  he  replied  that  he  would  consider  the 
subject  and  invited  her  to  come  again.  She  was  over- 
joyed at  their  prospect  of  success,  and  hastened  to  bear 
the  news  of  her  reception  to  Mr.  Judson.  Both  now 
considered  that  the  time  of  release  was  near  at  hand  ; 
but  the  governor  was  amazed  at  the  indiscretion  of  his 
prisoner  and  his  wife,  and  said  ho  feared  it  would  cause 
their  death  wljich  he  would  be  powerless  to  prevent. 

After  a  day  or  two  Mrs.  Judson  returned  to  the 
pavilion  of  the  general  with  a  valuable  present.  Ban- 
doola  was  not  at  home ;  but  his  wife,  after  receiving 
the  present,  reported  that  he  was  very  busily  employed 
in  his  preparations  for  the  war,  and  had  said  when  he 
should  have  regained  Rangoon,  and  expelled  the  Eng- 
lish, he  would  return  and  release  all  the  prisoners. 

That  destroyed  every  hope  of  release  before  the  ter- 
mination of  the  war,  and  all  that  could  now  be  done 
would  be  to  make  the  prisoners  as  comfortable  as  the 
jailers  would  allow. 

Through  the  influence  of  this  untiring  woman,  the 
prisoners  were  allowed  to  come  out  into  the  open  air 
and  hobble  about  the  yard  as  best  they  could  with  their 
fettered  feet,  and  rest,  at  times,  under  an  open  shed, 
but  always  attended  by  a  keeper.  By  the  help  of  Moung 
Ing,  Mrs.  Judson  erected  a  little  bamboo  room  in  the 
yard  and  obtained  permission  from  the  governor  to  let 
Mr.  Judson  stay  in  there  where  she  could  minister  to 
him.     Hitherto  they  had  been  allowed  to  speak  only  in 


254  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

Burman,  but  as  soon  as  this  restraint  was  removed, 
Mr.  Judson  inquired  for  the  manuscript  copy  of  the 
New  Testament  which  had  cost  him  so  much  labor.  It 
was  found  safely  hid  away  at  home,  where  it  had  been 
concealed  from  the  officers,  and  fearing  it  might  be 
injured  by  mold  or  destroyed,  they  sewed  it  up  in  a 
pillow  and  kept  it  in  the  little  room. 

By  making  presents  to  the  jailers  Mrs.  Judson  often 
obtained  the  privilege  of  coming  to  the  little  room  and 
spending  two  or  three  hours  a  day  with  her  husband. 
This  was  an  inexpressible  joy  to  them,  and  they  enjoyed 
each  other's  society  more  than  did  the  king  and  queen 
in  the  golden  palace,  harassed  by  defeats  in  war.  On 
these  occasions  Mrs.  Judson  left  the  house  and 
teaching  of  the  little  girls  to  Moung  Ing,  who  showed 
great  attachment  for  them. 


^'-- 


CHAPTER  V. 

"  Ere  last  year's  moon  had  left  the  sky, 
A  birdling  sought  my  Indian  nest 
And  folded,  Oh  so  lovingly  ! 
Her  tiny  wings  upon  my  breast." 

— Mrs.  Emily  C.  Jadson. 

There  came  a  time  when  the  angel  visits  to  the  palace 
ceased.  For  twenty  days  the  governor  sat  in  solitude 
because  his  fair  entertainer  was  absent.  The  government 
for  once,  had  a  respite  from  daily  appeals  in  behalf  of 
condemned  foreigners.  The  jailers  now  received  no 
more  presents,  and,  as  a  consequence,  comforts  were 
withdrawn,  and  the  prisoners  more  frequently  cor  fined 
within  the  prison.  Moung  Ing  came  every  day  with 
food  and  reported  the  condition  of  his  mistress. 

Mr.  Judson,  during  this  time,  suffered  mental  agony 
and  suspense,  with  which  his  former  bodily  tortures 
could  not  compare.  A  crisis  was  approaching,  at  the 
very  thought  of  which  every  Christian  mother's  heart 
must  bleed  in  sympathy  for  the  lone  young  wife  in  that 
savage  country.  Assisted  only  by  a  Portuguese  nurse, 
she  passed  through  the  terrible  trial  and  all  was  well. 

On  the  morning  of  the  twentieth  day  after  her  con- 
finement, the  prison  door  was  opened,  and  the  anxious 
father  summoned  from  his  gloomy  corner  to  meet  his 
loved  ones.  There  in  the  door-way  stood,  what  was  to 
him,  the  loveliest  scene  of  his  life.  His  faithful  Ann, 
clad  in  the  rich  dress,  the  present  of  the  governor's 
wife.     "  Her  dark  curls  carefully  straightened,  drawn 

(255) 


256  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

back  from  her  forehead,  and  a  fragrant  cocoa  blossom 
drooping  like  a  white  plume  from  the  knot  upon  the 
crown ;  her  saffron  vest  thrown  open  to  disclose  the 
folds  of  crimson  beneath;  and  a  rich,  silken  skirt, 
wrapped  closely  about  her  fine  figure,  parting  at  the 
ankle  and  sloping  back  upon  the  floor. 
Behold  her  standing  in  the  door-way  (for  she  was  never 
permitted  to  enter  the  prison),  her  little  blue-eyed 
blossom  wailing,  as  it  almost  always  did,  upon  her 
bosom,  and  the  chained  father  crawling  forth  to  the 
meeting."  His  companions  who  were  chained  with  him, 
all  shuffled  simultaneously  towards  the  door.  The 
trembling  father  took  the  tiny  form  into  his  arms  and 
gazed  into  the  tearful  blue  eyes  with  such  feelings  as 
can  be  rarely  experienced  by  parents  in  a  civilized  land. 
They  called  her  Maria,  a  child  of  sorrow,  and  so  her 
life  proved  how  appropriate  was  the  name.  Born  in 
sorrow  she  never  knew  a  well  day,  and  the  mother's 
love  was  only  stronger  for  the  poor  little  creature  that 
always  moaned  even  when  asleep.  The  scene  of  the 
meeting  was  so  affecting  that  even  the  Thief  burst  into 
tears,  and  the  Tiger,  to  stifle  the  faint  feeling  of  tender- 
ness welling  up  in  his  own  savage  bosom,  rattled  on 
the  door,  and  ordered  them   to  part,  and  the  door  was 

shut. 

"  Go,  darling  infant,  go  ; 

Thine  hour  has  passed  away  ; 
The  jailers'  harsh,  discordant  voice 
Forbids  thy  longer  stay. 

"  God  grant  that  we  may  meet 
In  happier  times  than  this, 
And  with  thine  angel  mother  dear 
Enjoy  domestic  bliss." 


THE    CHILD    OF    THE    GANGES.  257 

A  vision  of  the  "  white  mamma  "  again  in  the  prison- 
yard  once  more  stimulated  the  jailers  to  a  hope  of 
reward,  and  they  allowed  the  prisoners  to  come  out  into 
the  prison  enclosure,  as  formerly,  and  Mr.  Judson  to 
rest  in  his  little  bamboo  room,  visited  as  often  as  pos- 
sible by  his  ever-busy  wife,  who  now  must  care  both  for 
him  and  the  child. 

Mahree,  though  scarcely  more  than  a  child  at  her 
adoption,  had  grown  wonderfully  during  the  seven 
months  since  then,  and  gladly  assumed  the  office  of 
nurse.  Moung  Ing,  with  almost  a  father's  care,  over- 
looked the  affairs  of  the  little  family,  filling  Mr.  Judson's 
position  as  near  as  it  was  possible  for  any  one  to  fill 
it.  His  devotion  to  the  winning,  black-eyed  lass, 
Mahree,  and  to  the  puny  babe,  was  something  remark- 
able. He  also  taught  Mahree  and  Abbe  in  the  absence 
of  Mrs.  Judson,  and  made  himself  an  indispensable 
member  of  the  family. 

It  was  only  for  a  short  time  that  affairs  were  permit- 
ted to  remain  thus  bright  and  hopeful.  A  royal  mes- 
senger suddenly  arrived  in  great  haste,  and  announced 
in  the  palace  the  total  defeat  of  Bandoola  and  the 
destruction  of  his  magnificent  army  of  invincibles. 
The  king  was  dumb  with  silent,  stupefied  amazement. 
The  queen  smote  on  her  breast  and  ran  wildly  about 
the  palace,  crying,  "  Ama !  Ama!"  The  invincible 
Bandoola  was  defeated.  Who  could  take  his  place? 
The  English  were  proceeding  steadily  up  the  river, 
already  as  far  as  Prome,  and  the  common  jieople  were 
whispering  of  rebellion  if  forced  to  raise  another  army 
from  their  resources,  for  as  yet  not  a  rupee  had  been 
taken  from  the  royal  treasury.  All  the  spite  was  taken 
17 


258         THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

out  on  the  prisoners.  They  were  seized  in  the  yard, 
and  having  their  ankles  enclosed  in  five  pairs  of  fet- 
ters, were  hurled  again  into  the  inner  prison  and  the 
bamboo  passed  between  their  legs,  resting  on  one  foot, 
while  the  other  foot,  with  its  fifteen  pounds  of  iron 
added  to  the  pole,  almost  crushed  it  into  the  ground. 
The  little  bamboo  room  was  torn  down,  and  one  of  the 
keepers  carried  the  pillow  and  mattress  to  his  own  shed. 
Herded  thus  together  and  bearing  the  additional  fet- 
ters, the  condition  of  the  prisoners  was  now  worse  than 
ever.  Night  came  on.  A  whisper  went  around  that 
they  were  to  b3  led  out  to  execution  in  the  morning. 
The  keepers  outside  the  door  sharpened  their  long, 
flashing  knives,  and  brandished  them  about  to  show 
how  gladly  they  woild  perform  their  task.  But  why 
need  the  prisoners  fear?  Death  was  preferable  to  such 
a  life  as  this.  Mr.  Judson  sat  musing.  He  regretted 
that  he  was  not  allowed  to  bid  his  wife  and  child  fare- 
well. Death  in  itself  would  be  desirable.  His  faith- 
ful companion  would  no  longer  be  subject  to  care  on 
his  account,  but  with  her  child,  under  the  faithful  care 
of  Moung  Ing,  she  could  escape  to  the  approaching 
British  line  and  find  safety.  It  would  be  better  for  her 
and  better  for  the  child.  Then  he  thought  of  the  pil- 
low containing  the  precious  manuscript,  and  wondered 
if  it  would  ever  be  found  and  rescued.  The  long  night 
dragged  heavily  by.  The  solemn  hour  of  three  drew 
near,  the  hour  when  all  executions  took  place,  and 
when  they  had  seen  so  many  of  their  fellow-prisoners 
led  out  at  the  sound  of  the  watch-gong.  The  prisoners 
prayed,  Mr.  Judson  leading,  then  all  prayed  sepa- 
rately. The  hour  was  near.  Not  a  breath  could  be 
bjard      Not  a  chain  rattled. 


THE    CHILD    OF    THE    GANGES.  259 

u  Yoang !  yoang !  yoang !  "  three  times  sounded  the 
deep-voiced  gong  in  the  palace  yard.  They  were  all  in 
readiness,  but  not  a  keeper  stirred.  An  hour  passed, 
and  yet  no  sign.  Could  they  have  been  deceived?  A 
faint  glimmer  through  the  cracks  on  the  eastern  side, 
and  they  knew  day  was  at  hand,  and  they  were 
spared,  at  least  till  another  night.  The  door  opened 
and  the  Tiger  entered,  cordially  poking  all  whom  he 
passed  and  kicking  those  at  his  feet.  He  chuckled  the 
white  prisoners  under  the  chin,  and  in  answer  to  their 
questions  replied : 

"Oh,  no;  1  could  not  spare  my  children  yet,  just 
after  taking  so  much  trouble  to  procure  them  fitting 
ornaments."  Here  he  gave  the  bamboo  such  a  kick 
that  the  chains  rattled  and  the  five  pairs  of  fetters 
crowded  together,  pinching  the  flesh  between,  till  they 
almost  screamed  with  pain. 

At  this  period  a  pakan-woon  who  had  suffered  the 
disgrace  of  being  thrown  into  prison  by  the  king,  now 
offered  his  services  to  lead  another  army  against  the 
British.  His  offer  was  accepted,  and  he  was  commis- 
sioned as  general  of  the  new  troops  collected.  He  was 
a  violent  enemy  of  all  foreigners,  and  it  was  to  him 
that  the  prisoners  owed  their  return  to  torture. 

As  soon  as  Mrs.  Judson  heard  of  the  confinement  of 
the  prisoners  and  their  additional  fetters,  she  went  at 
once  to  the  governor's  house.  He  was  away,  but  left 
word  if  she  came  that  she  must  not  ask  the  removal  of 
the  fetters  nor  the  release  of  the  prisoners,  for  it  could 
not  be  done.  She  went  to  the  prison,  but  was  refused 
admittance.  All  was  still  as  death  within.  Not  a  rat- 
tle of  a  chain  disturbed  the  oppressive   silence.     She 


260  CHILD   OF   THE   GANGES. 

could  not  rest  without  making  one  effort  for  their  com- 
fort, and  she  determined  to  see  the  governor  and  at 
least  learn  the  cause  of  the  new  torture.  So  she 
returned  to  the  city  that  evening  at  an  hour  when  she 
knew  he  was  always  there.  He  was  sitting  alone  in 
the  audience  chamber,  and  received  her  in  silence,  his 
face  showing  a  feeling  of  shame  mixed  with  affected 
anger  at  the  intrusion.     She  began  without  ceremony  : 

"  Your  lordship  has  hitherto  treated  us  with  the  kind- 
ness of  a  father.  Our  obligations  to  you  are  very  great. 
We  have  looked  to  you  for  protection  from  oppression 
and  cruelty.  You  have  in  many  instances  mitigated 
the  sufferings  of  those  unfortunate,  though  innocent, 
beings  committed  to  your  charge.  You  have  promised 
me  particularly  that  you  would  stand  by  me  till  the  last, 
and  though  you  should  receive  an  order  from  the  king, 
you  would  not  put  Mr.  Judson  to  death.  What  crime 
has  he  committed  to  deserve  such  additional  punish- 
ment? " 

The  expression  of  his  face  when  she  entered,  changed 
as  she  began  to  plead,  and  he  showed  the  true  feeling 
of  his  heart  for  her  and  her  suffering.  Covering  his 
face  with  his  hands,  he  wept  like  a  child. 

"  I  pity  you,  Tsa-yah-ga-dau,"  he  said.  "  I  knew  you 
would  make  me  feel ;  I  therefore  forbade  your  applica- 
tion. But  you  must  believe  me  when  I  say  I  do  not 
wish  to  increase  the  sufferings  of  the  prisoners.  When 
I  am  ordered  to  execute  them,  the  least  I  can  do  is  to 
put  them  out  of  sight.  I  will  now  tell  you  what  I  have 
never  told  you  before — that  three  times  I  have  received 
intimations  from  the  queen's  brother  to  assassinate  all 
the  white  prisoners  privately ;  but  I  would  not  do  it. 


TEE  CHILD  Otf  THE!  GANGES.  261 

And  I  now  repeat  it,  though  I  execute  all  others  I  will 
never  execute  your  husband.  But  I  cannot  release 
him  from  his  present  confinement,  and  you  must  not 
ask  it." 

She  now  understood  the  old  man  better  than  ever  and 
placed  more  confidence  in  his  promises.  But  she  must 
depend  upon  herself  and  Moung  Ing  to  make  the  pris- 
oners as  comfortable  as  possible. 

Mah  Po,  though  the  rich  lady  of  a  court  minister, 
often  traversed  the  two  miles  of  dusty  road  to  the  mis- 
sion-hcuse,  carrying  provisions  and  helping  Mahree  to 
care  for  the  feeble  babe  while  its  mother  sped  away  to 
the  prison. 

A  month's  confinement  in  his  densely  heated  and 
loathsome  apartment,  threw  Mr.  Judson  into  a  raging 
fever,  from  which,  death,  in  such  a  place,  was  inevitable. 
Sometime  before,  a  new  prisoner  had  appeared  in  the 
enclosure  in  the  form  of  a  lion  in  his  cage.  The  lion 
had  been  a  favorite  pet  of  the  king,  but  some  of  the 
refugees  from  the  destroyed  armies  reported  that  the 
British  displayed  a  lion  on  their  standard,  and  they 
were  sure  that  the  success  of  the  foreigners  was  due  to 
the  lion  in  the  palace,  which  they  thought  beguiled  the 
king's  heart.  It  was  therefore  sent  to  the  death-prison 
as  condemned  to  die,  yet  the  king  commanded  that  he 
should  not  be  executed  without  his  orders.  The  queen's 
brother,  who  did  most  of  the  mischief  connected  with 
the  prison,  left  orders  that  the  beast  should  not  be  fed — 
which  would  insure  his  death,  even  without  the  king's 
order.  So,  day  after  day,  the  huge  creature  stood  in 
his  narrow  house,  roaring  horribly,  or  madly  dashing 
himself  against  the  bars.     It  was  even  a  worse  sight 


262         THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

than  the  death  of  the  poor  Kathayan  to  see  the  royal 
monster  pining  away,  the  tawny  skin  hanging  from  his 
gaunt  sides,  and  his  mad  eyes  glaring  in  their  sunken 
sockets.  At  length,  however,  his  majestic  strength 
succumbed  to  the  ravages  df  hunger,  and  he  was  car- 
ried out,  a  sack  of  dry  bones,  to  be  thrown  into  the 
gutter,  there  to  await  the  inquest  of  the  government 
officers.  Mr.  Judson  thought  the  vacant  cage  would 
make  an  airy  couch  for  him  in  his  illness,  and,  through 
the  earnest  pleading  of  his  wife,  the  governor  allowed 
him  to  be  removed  there.  Even  this  change,  however, 
did  not  have  its  desired  effect,  and  it  seemed  that  he 
must  die. 

Mrs.  Judson  brought  Moung  Ing  with  her  to  the  city, 
and  they  erected  a  little  bamboo  room  in  the  governor's 
yard  opposite  the  prison  gate.  She  now  importuned 
the  governor  to  let  her  bring  Mr.  Judson  into  the  little 
room,  where  she  could  stay  with  him  and  nurse  him 
through  his  sickness.  He  refused,  saying  it  was  impos- 
sible. 

Nothing  daunted,  she  renewed  the  request  so  inces- 
santly, day  by  day,  that  his  patience  was  exhausted 
and  he  gave  her  the  desired  permission,  with  a  written 
order  to  the  jailers  to  allow  her  to  pass  freely  in  and 
out  of  the  gates.  She  was  now  happy.  With,  the 
assistance  of  Moung  Ing,  she  brought  the  sick  man  out 
of  the  cage  and  placed  him  in  the  little  room,  which 
was  to  him  a  palace,  in  contrast  to  the  tilth  of  his 
former  abode.  The  medicine  chest  was  now  brought, 
and  Mrs.  Judson,  having  sent  for  Mahree  and  the 
child,  took  her  station  by  the  sick-bed,  while  Moung 
Ing  took  charge  of  affairs  at  home  and  brought  their 
daily  provisions. 


THE  CHILD  OE  THE  GANGES.  263 

One  morning,  two  or  three  days  after  their  removal 
into  the  little  room,  Mrs.  Judson  came  in  with  her  hus- 
band's breakfast ;  but  he  was  so  ill  from  the  effects  of 
the  fever  that  he  could  not  eat.  She  sat  down  by  the 
mattress  to  soothe  him  as  much  as  possible  by  bathing 
his  burning  brow  and  speaking  gently  to  him.  Mah- 
ree  had  been  sent  home  with  the  child,  in  company 
with  Moung  Ing,  who  brought  their  breakfast — so  they 
were  entirely  alone. 

Suddenly  a  messenger  came  rushing  in,  in  great  haste. 
"  Tsa-yah-ga-dau !  "  he  cried.  "  The  governor  wishes 
to  see  you  immediately." 

Much  wondering  what  could  be  the  cause  of  this 
hasty  summons,  and  suspecting  that  something  fearful 
was  about  to  happen,  she  arose  quickly,  and  telling  Mr. 
Judson  that  she  would  return  as  soon  as  she  found 
what  the  governor  wanted,  she  departed  with  the  mes- 
senger. 

The  old  man  was  in  an  unusually  pleasant  mood  and 
soon  put  her  fears  to  flight.  He  wished  to  consult  her 
about  his  watch — an  uncommon  novelty  in  Burmah. 
He  drew  her  out  on  the  various  beauties  of  its  design 
and  the  wonderful  workings  of  its  wheels,  holding  her 
in  pleasant  conversation  for  half  an  hour.  At  length 
she  excused  herself,  saying  that  Mr.  Judson  was  very 
unwell — not  able  to  eat  his  food — and  she  must  return 
to  give  him  his  medicine.  Passing  out  the  door,  she 
was  met  by  a  servant  with  a  ghastly  face,  who  informed 
her  that  the  white  prisoners  were  carried  away,  he  knew 
not  whither.  The  news  so  stunned  her  that  she  could 
not  believe  it.  Returning  to  the  governor,  she  inquired 
if  it  was  true.    He  replied  that  he  had  just  heard  it 


2C4  THE   CHILD   OP   THE!   GANGES. 

through  the  same  messenger,  but  did  not  know  what 
had  become  of  them.  She  then  ran  hastily  into  the 
street  to  see  if  she  could  see  them,  before  they  got  out 
of  sight ;  but  she  saw  nothing  of  them.  She  then  ran 
from  street  to  street,  inquiring  of  all  she  met;  but 
no  one  would  give  her  an  answer.  Crossing  another 
street,  she  found  Mah  Po,  who  seemed  also  excited,  and 
who  informed  her  that  the  prisoners  had  been  taken 
toward  the  little  river,  and  that  they  were  to  be  carried  to 
Amarapura,  the  former  capital,  six  miles  away.  She 
then  ran  to  the  little  river ;  but  seeing  no  sign  of  them, 
concluded  that  the  kindly  old  woman  had  deceived  her, 
and  that  something  worse  had  happened;  but  some 
friends  of  the  foreigners  whom  she  had  sent  to  the  place 
of  execution  returned  and  said  they  were  not  there,  so 
she  returned  to  the  governor  to  try  and  find  the  cause  of 
their  removal  and  what  was  intended  by  it.  The  old 
man  told  her  that  he  had  had  no  intimation  of  the  in- 
tention of  the  government  to  remove  them  till  that 
morning,  and  that  he  had  only  learned  since  she  went 
out  that  they  were  to  be  carried  to  Amarapura.  "But 
for  what  purpose,"  he  said,  "  I  know  not.  I  will  send 
off  a  man  immediately  to  see  what  is  to  be  done  with 
them.  You  can  do  nothing  for  your  husband ;  take  care 
of  yourself."  The  Pakan-woon  had  instituted  great 
cruelties  in  the  city  and  the  governor  advised  her  not 
to  go  on  the  streot  alone.  But  he  knew  not  yet  the  in- 
domitable spirit  of  the  woman. 

She  had  built  in  addition  to  Mr.  Judson's  room,  a 
little  apartment  for  herself,  Mahree  and  the  child,  in 
the  governor's  enclosure.  Going  out  from  the  audience 
chamber,  she  sank  down  in  her  rocking  chair  that  Moung 


THE  CHILD  OE  THE  GANGES.         265 

Ing  had  just  brought  from  home.  For  awhile  she  was 
almost  in  despair.  It  seemed  that  her  heroic  nature 
was,  for  once,  conquered.  The  prison  gate,  where  she 
had  so  often  knocked  for  admission,  was  standing  open, 
but  no  one  was  within  that  she  wished  to  see.  Life 
now  had  for  her  no  object.  For  seven  months  she  had 
contrived  day  and  night,  how  to  make  her  husband  com- 
fortable. She  had  daily  trod  the  streets,  from  door  to 
door  of  the  members  of  government,  pleading  for  the 
release  of  the  prisoners.  When  they  had  been  thrown 
the  last  time  into  the  inner  prison,  and  even  Moung  Ing 
denied  admission  with  food,  she  had  come,  and  waiting 
patiently  without  till  night,  when  the  earth-oil  lamp  was 
lighted  and  then  obtained  permission  to  bear  in  the  long 
delayed  repast.  Night  after  night,  for  months,  had  she 
been  thus  forced  to  wait,  and  then  go  home  alone  at  nine 
o'clock  in  the  night  when  the  fierce  jackal  prowled  by 
the  way-side  and  more  savage  men  thronged  the  streets. 
The  long  two  miles  were  unheeded,  the  dangers  were 
not  thought  of ;  only  how  could  she  best  contrive  for 
the  comfort  of  the  prisoners.  Now  they  were  gone ; 
what  could  she  do?  Mr.  Judson  was  sick  in  bed,  and 
unable  to  eat.  Could  it  be  possible  that  the  inhuman 
wretches  had  driven  him  away  in  that  condition?  The 
thought  was  maddening.  Springing  up  she  went  to  the 
governor  and  told  him  that  she  was  going  to  Amarapur-a 
in  search  of  her  husband.  He  was  shocked  at  the  very 
thought  of  such  a  thing.  What,  a  female  encounter 
such  a  journey  in  such  weather!  It  was  impossible. 
She  could  not  live  through  it.  Then  the  country 
was  filled  with  robbers,  the  result  of  the  war. 
She  should  not  think  of  such  a  thing.     But  she  replied 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

undaunted,  that  her  place  was  by  her  sick  husband  and 
she  would  go  to  him,  let  come  what  would.  Seeing  her 
determination,  he  begged  her  to  wait  till  night,  a  more 
pleasant  season  for  traveling,  when  he  would  send  a  man 
with  her  to  open  the  gates.  But  she  refused  to  wait. 
Mr.  Judson  might  die  during  that  time.  Returning  to 
her  house  out  of  town  she  had  Moung  Ing  and  a  servant 
to  carry  two  or  three  trunks  of  the  most  valuable  arti- 
cles to  deposit  with  the  medicine  chest  in  the  care  of 
the  governor.  She  then  committed  the  house  and 
premises  to  Moung  Ing.  He  insisted  ongoing  with  her, 
but  she  said  she  would  take  the  Bengalee  cook  who 
could  serve  her  as  well  there,  but  who  could  not  be  en- 
trusted with  the  house.  Thinking  that  perhaps  by 
being  close  by  he  could  use  his  influence  with  the  gov- 
ernor to  better  advantage,  he  consented  to  remain.  She 
then  took  the  cook,  Abbe,  Mahree  and  the  child,  and 
procuring  a  boat,  set  out  through  the  burning  sun  to- 
ward Amarapura. 

Mahree,  with  her  daily  care  of  little  Maria,  and 
watching  her  "white  mamma"  in  these  unselfish  labors 
of  love,  began  to  have  some  conception  of  life  with  its 
awful  responsibilities,  and  resolved  to  emulate  the  ex- 
ample of  her  teacher,  and  follow  her  path  to  a  noble 
womanhood.  Mrs.  Judson  was  thinking  of  her  sick  hus- 
band driven  in  chains  over  the  burning  sands;  the 
child  was  sleeping  in  her  arms ;  Abbe  was  thinking 
over  the  mysteries  of  the  alphabet ;  the  cook  looked  on 
in  compassion ;  and  thus  they  toiled  on  to  the  "Never* 
to-be-forgotten  place." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"  How  oft  would  I  have  shunned  thy  scorching  ray,  ,. 

When  with  my  bleeding  feet  I  trod  the  way— 
A  captive's  lot,  whose  pangs  no  tongue  can  tell ! " 

—  The  Dying  Missionary,  by  Robt.  N.  Barrett. 

As  soon  as  Mrs.  Judson  had  gone  from  the  little  room 
to  answer  the  governor's  call,  a  band  of  men  rushed 
into  the  prison-yard  and  began  to  bind  the  white  pris- 
oners, two  and  two.  One  of  the  jailers  ran  hastily  into 
Mr.  Judson's  room,  and  seizing  him  by  the  arm,  jerked 
him  roughly  from  his  couch,  sick  as  he  was;  then 
stripping  him  of  his  clothing,  all  except  shirt  and 
pants,  drove  him  forth  bare-headed  and  bare-footed  into 
the  prison-yard  where  the  others  were  waiting.  He  was 
now  tied  to  one  of  these,  and  a  slave  holding  the  rope 
that  connected  each  couple,  they  were  driven  out  on 
the  shimmering  plain,  the  lamine-woon  riding  alongside 
on  his  horse.  It  was  now  May,  the  Tropical  Summer. 
Since  June  of  the  year  before,  they  had  been  confined 
to  the  darkness  of  the  death-prison  or  protected  by  the 
shade  of  the  open  sheds.  Consequently  their  skin  was 
tender.  On  their  first  touching  the  plain  the  heat 
almost  withered  them.  Not  a  tree  was  to  be  seen,  only 
the  far-stretching  waste  of  shining  gravel.  The  sun 
was  almost  to  the  zenith,  shining  perpendicularly  on 
their  bare  heads.  Their  necks,  faces  and  hands  were 
soon  blistered  red,  and  burning  painfully.  The  sand 
and  gravel  were  so  hot  that  every  step  caused  them  to 
shrink    and  hesitate    to   take    another   except    when 

(267) 


268  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

prompted  by  the  continual  goading  of  their  drivers. 
Mr.  Judson,  having  taken  no  food  that  day,  and  burn- 
ing with  fever  besides,  was  scarcely  able  to  stand,  much 
less  to  undertake  such  a  journey  on  foot.  By  the  time 
they  reached  the  little  river,  only  a  half  mile  distant, 
the  soles  of  his  feet  were  solid  blisters,  and  he  longed 
to  throw  himself  into  the  water  and  end  his  miseries, 
only  the  sin  of  such  an  act  preventing.  When  they 
had  proceeded  four  or  five  miles  the  skin  was  entirely 
gone  from  their  feet,  and  the  flesh  was  horribly  lacera- 
ted by  the  sharp  gravels  on  which  they  left  their  bloody 
tracks  gleaming  behind  them  and  almost  hissing  with 
the  heat.  Mr.  Judson  here  begged  the  lamine-woon  to 
let  him  ride  his  horse  a  mile  or  two,  as  he  was  com- 
pletely exhausted.  That  dignitary's  only  reply  was  a 
scornful,  withering  look,  such  as  he  would  have  be- 
stowed upon  a  dog.  He  then  asked  Captain  Laird,  his 
fellow-prisoner,  to  let  him  rest  one  hand  on  his  shoulder, 
as  he  was  sinking  fast.  The  Captain,  who  was  a  robust, 
healthy  man,  readily  granted  the  request  for  a  mile  or 
two,  but  his  own  feet  were  worn  out,  and  he  was  unable 
to  assist  him  any  further.  Mr.  Gouger's  Bengalee  ser- 
vant overtoaif  the  party  at  this  point,  and  seeing  Mr. 
Judson's  distress,  tore  off  his  own  head-dress,  and  giv- 
ing half  to  his  master  and  half  to  Mr.  Judson,  wrapped 
it  instantly  about  his  feet,  then  offered  him  his  own 
shoulder  to  support  him  the  remaining  part  of  the  jour- 
ney. Had  it  not  been  for  the  prompt  interference  of  this 
humane  heathen  he  must  have  perished  by  the  way-side. 
The  Greek  who  had  been  confined  at  the  same  time  was 
taken  out  of  prison  that  morning  strong  and  vigorous, 
but  being  of  corpulent  frame  his  strength  gave  way,  and 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  269 

he  fell  almost  dead.  The  drivers  beat  him  and  dragged 
him  through  the  sand  till  they  were  weary  themselves, 
then  procuring  a  cart,  hauled  him  the  remaining,  two 
miles  to  the  court-house  of  Amarapura.  He  was  help- 
less and  breathing  very  heavily  when  taken  from  the 
cart  and  laid  on  the  ground ;  and  in  about  two  hours 
expired  in  great  agony. 

Reaching  the  court-house  the  prisoners  could  stand 
no  longer,  and  sank  on  the  ground  completely  exhausted. 
Leaving  them  in  charge  of  their  drivers,  the  lamine- 
woon  went  before  the  magistrates  to  see  what  was  to  be 
done  with  them.  He  received  the  intelligence  that  the 
Pakan-woon  had  ordered  them  conveyed  on  to  Oung- 
pen-la,  four  miles  farther,  there  to  be  confined  in  a 
dilapidated  prison  and  burned  alive  at  his  order.  The 
lamine-woon  then  went  out,  intending  to  proceed  with 
them  to  Oung-pen-la  that  night,  but  finding  the  Greek 
already  dead  and  the  others  unable  to  move,  he  decided 
to  let  them  remain  till  morning  rather  than  exert  his 
slaves  in  trying  to  drag  them.  They  were  allowed  to 
crawl  under  an  old  shed  and  lie  during  the  night,  with- 
out any  covering  or  accommodation  of  any  kind.  The 
lamine-woon's  wife,  prompted  by  curiosity  to  see  the 
white  men,  visited  the  shed,  and  her  compassion  was 
so  excited  that  she  brought  them  some  fruit,  sugar  and 
tamarinds  for  their  refreshment.  AVeary  and -hungry 
as  they  were,  never  had  repast  been  so  like  a  banquet 
to  them. 

In  the  morning,  as  they  were  still  unable  to  walk, 
carts  were  provided  and  they  were  conveyed  by  that 
means  to  their  destination.  Hitherto  they  had  been 
totally  ignorant  of    their  future  fate,  but  when  they 


270  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

arrived  and  saw  the  ruined  prison  without  cover  to 
shield  them  from  the  sun,  there  was  no  longer  any  doubt, 
and  they  began  preparing  themselves  for  a  living  cre- 
mation ;  and  not  until  they  saw  slaves  mount  to  the 
roof  and  begin  repairing  it  with  leaves,  did  they  think 
any  respite  would  be  granted  them.  They  were  lying 
under  the  shadow  of  the  crumbling  walls  without, 
almost  dead.  Mr.  Judson's  fever,  now  raging  more 
fiercely,  and  added  to  the  excessive  temperature,  with 
the  fatigue  and  violent  headache  resulting  from  the 
motion  of  the  cart,  was  a  torture  from  which  death  by 
fire  would  have  been  a  desired  relief.  He  lay  there 
thinking  of  Ann.  What  would  she  think  when  she 
returned  from  the  governor's  room  and  found  him  gone? 
a  scene  from  which  he  now  saw  the  old  man  sought  to 
spare  her  the  sight.  What  would  she  do?  Follow?  He 
hoped  she  would  not.  Lying  thus,  verging  on  delirium, 
almost  unconscious  of  his  surroundings,  his  eyes  dim 
with  dust  and  fever,  he  saw,  as  in  a  dream,  a  distant 
vision  on  the  plain ;  almost  immovable ;  yet  the  radia- 
tion of  the  sand  caused  it  to  show  a  quivering  motion. 
It  was  seemingly  without  form,  like  a  phantom.  Could 
it  be  that  he  had  already  lost  his  reason  and  this  was 
some  myth  of  his  disordered  brain,  or  was  it  a  mirage? 
Neither.  Still  nearer  it  approached,  its  motion  now 
being  perceptible.  It  dissolved  itself  into  two  forms ; 
a  yoke  of  buffaloes,  their  heads  almost  on  the  ground. 
Then  another  form,  a  native  driver  walking  beside,  and 
goading  them  with  an  iron-pointed  bamboo.  Now  the 
motion  and  bulk  of  a  cart  in  the  rear.  Its  wheels, 
made  simply  of  round  boards  with  holes  through  them, 
in  which  the  axle  was  thrust,  without  any  hub  what- 


THE   CHILD   OF   THE   GANGES.  2,71 

ever,  were  allowed  to  flap  from  a  sudden  incline  to  a 
brief  perpendicular  and  then  a  more  sudden  incline  in 
the  opposite  direction,  causing  the  vehicle  to  careen 
from  side  to  side  of  the  road  like  a  ship  in  the  trough 
of  the  sea.  Now  the  screaking  of  the  wheels  could  be 
heard,  and  several  occupants  indistinctly  seen  as  they 
clutched  the  sides  to  save  themselves  from  being  thrown 
out.  In  front  of  the  prison  the  mysterious  carriage 
halted.  A  man  descended  from  the  rear  end.  It  was 
his  Bengalee  cook.  The  sick  man  started  from  his 
death-like  stupor  as  if  he  first  credited  the  reality  of 
the  vision.  Then  out  came  Mahree  and  Abbe ;  then — 
could  it  be  true? — his  own  faithful  Ann,  her  babe  on 
her  bosom.     Rushing  to  him  she  knelt  at  his  side 

"Oh,  why  did  you  come?"  he  said  reproachfully, 
though  feebly.  "  I  so  hoped  you  would  not.  You  can- 
not live  here." 

Kissing  him  and  brushing  the  dust  from  his  face 
with  her  apron,  she  replied : 

"And  where  should  I  be  but  at  my  husband's  side? 
Could  I  stay  behind  and  know  that  you  were  here  suf- 
fering, perhaps  dying,  and  no  one  to  minister  to  you? 
If  I  cannot  live  here,  I  can  die  here,  and  that  with 
better  satisfaction  than  I  could  live  away  from  my 
beloved.  But  we  cannot  remain  here ;  I  will  see  the 
jailer." 

Placing  the  child  in  the  arms  of  Mahree,  she  boldly 
approached  that  savage-looking  personage,  who  was 
standing  aside  giving  orders  to  the  men  on  the  roof. 
Association  with  such  men  had  long  since  deprived  her 
of  fear.  She  began  as  if  talking  to  the  governor  of  the 
north  gate,  by  inquiring  if  she  might  erect  a  little  bam- 


272  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

boo  house  for  herself  and  child,  in  order  to  care  for  her 
sick  husband. 

"  No,"  he  replied  gruffly,  "  it  is  not  customary.5' 

"Then,'' she  said,  "will  you  not  please  procure  for 
me  shelter  for  the  night,  when  on  the  morrow  I  can  find 
a  place  to  live  in?" 

He  looked  at  her  then  for  the  first  time.  Her  beau- 
tiful face  and  pleading  manner  seemed  to  melt  him,  for 
he  conducted  her  to  his  own  house,  two  or  three  hun- 
dred yards  away.  It  contained  only  two  rooms,  one  of 
which  was  occupied  by  his  own  family,  the  other,  half 
full  of  rice-straw,  dust,  and  vermin.  He  pointed  to 
this,  then  went  back  to  superintend  affairs  at  the 
prison.  Here  she  brought  the  children,  and  spread  a 
mat  on  the  paddy  which  was  to  be  their  bed  for  the 
next  six  months.  She  now  made  some  tea  for  herself 
and  the  prisoners,  which  was  all  that  could  be  obtained 
that  night,  and  after  they  wrere  locked  up  in  the  rickety 
old  building,  she  returned  to  the  little  grain-room  to 
try  to  rest. 

This  was  to  the  prisoners  the  most  horrible  night  of 
their  experience.  They  were  so  stiff  in  every  limb  that 
they  could  scarcely  turn,  and  their  feet,  without  a  par- 
ticle of  skin  on  the  soles,  of  course  rendered  standing 
impossible.  At  dark  they  were  sent  to  bed  in  the 
familiar  couch,  the  stocks.  Lying  flat  on  their  backs 
they  now  tried  to  obtain  a  little  sleep.  Suddenly  they 
became  conscious  of  a  slow  motion  about  their  feet. 
The  keepers  were  all  in  a  shed  without ;  what  could  it 
mean?  The  stocks  were  certainly  rising  slowly  and 
majestically  towards  the  roof.  Reaching  the  height  at 
which  they  were  so  accustomed  to  see  the  bamboo  at 


THE   CHILD   OF   THE   GANGES.  273 

the  Let-ma-yoon,  it  rested  and  left  them  suspended  as 
if  it  was  thought  they  could  sleep  only  in  that  position 
on  account  of  their  former  custom.  The  stocks  were 
not  so  bad,  but  it  was  what  followed.  The  mischievous 
rogues  had  raised  the  wonderful  contrivance  by  means 
of  a  crank  on  the  outside,  and  could  be  heard  enjoying 
the  fun  due  to  their  mechanical  skill.  Now  the  mos- 
quitoes swarmed  in  from  the  stagnant  waters  of  the 
rice-fields  and  settled  in  great  hordes  on  their  sus- 
pended feet.  They  tried  in  vain  to  reach  up  to  drive 
them  off,  but  were  forced  to  lie  there  and  feel  the  hun- 
dreds of  voracious  bills  thrust  deep  into  their  raw  and 
bleeding  soles.  Squirming  and  beating  the  air,  they 
could  stand  the  torture  no  longer,  and  cried  loudly  for 
pity  from  the  guard  without.  The  good-natured  fellows 
enjoyed  the  yells  for  awhile,  then  kindly  lowered  the 
stocks,  about  midnight,  within  a  foot  or  two  of  the 
ground,  where  the  enemy  could  be  more  successfully 
encountered. 

Such  are   the   sufferings  of  those  who  would  preach 
the  gospel  in  a  heathen  land. 


18 


CHAPTER  VII. 


"  Henceforth,  then, 
It  matters  not  if  storms  or  sunshiae  be 
My  earthly  lot— bitter  or  sweet  my  cup ; 
I  only  pray — '  God  fit  me  for  the  work, 
God  make  me  holy,  and  my  spirit  nerve 
For  the  stern  hour  of  strife.'" 


— Rev.  N.  Brown. 


On  the  next  morning,  rising  from  her  couch  of  straw 
at  the  first  appearance  of  day,  and  leaving  the  weary 
children  still  asleep,  Mrs.  Judson  went  into  the  village 
in  search  of  food  to  prepare  for  the  breakfast  of  the 
prisoners,  knowing  that  they  had  been  without  food 
most  of  the  day  before.  But  there  being  no  market, 
she  almost  despaired  of  procuring  anything  nearer 
than  Amarapura.  She  found,  however,  that  Dr.  Price's 
servant  had  brought  some  cold  rice  and  curry,  and  some 
one  else  a  cup  of  tea,  from  which  she  managed  to  pre- 
pare a  meal,  depending  for  dinner  on  some  dried  fish 
brought  by  Mr.  Gouger's  servant  This  gave  her  time 
to  send  to  Amarapura  for  other  provisions.  The  pri- 
soners, on  account  of  the  lacerated  condition  of  their 
feet,  were  unable  to  move  for  several  days.  Mr.  Jud- 
son's  fever  was,  of  course,  much  increased  by  the  jour- 
ney, and  it  would  require  the  closest  attention  from  his 
faithful  nurse  to  preserve  his  life.  She  now  thought 
of  trusting  little  Maria  solely  to  the  care  of  Mahree, 
and  giving  her  attention  to  her  husband. 

After  carrying  the  food  to  the  prison  she  returned  to 
her  lodging  to  see  after  the  childron  and  arrange  the  little 

(271) 


THE   CHILD    OF   THE    GANGES.  275 

room  to  be  as  comfortable  as  possible.  Maria,  who  bad 
never  known  a  well  day  since  ber  sorrowful  birth,  was 
crying  pitifully  as  she  entered.  Abbe  was  sitting 
beside  ber  on  tbe  mat  endeavoring  to  quiet  her,  and 
poor  Mahree,  on  her  couch  of  straw  in  the  corner,  was 
tossing  to  and  fro  in  feverish  agony.  Going  near  to  ascer- 
tain what  ailed  her,  she  found  the  child's  body  already 
covered  with  the  eruptions  of  that  fearful  disease,  the 
small-pox.  Here,  indeed,  was  a  trial ;  a  child  always 
sick,  and  demanding  a  mother's  care  both  night  and 
day;  a  helpless  husband  in  chains,  who  had  to  be 
ministered  to  every  hour,  and  a  case  of  the  small-pox 
in  her  own  room.  She  had  been  vaccinated,  so  she  did 
not  fear  the  disease  for  herself.  With  a  needle  she 
inoculated  the  other  two  children.  Abbe,  as  a  conse- 
quence, escaped,  but  it  did  not  take  with  Maria.  No 
physician  was  to  be  had.  Dr.  Price  was  in  the  stocks, 
and  could  only  advise  in  regard  to  inoculation  and  diet, 
.as  he  had  no  medicine. 

The  care-worn  mother  could  now  be  seen  almost 
hourly  going  to  and  fro  from  the  hovel  to  the  prison, 
with  her  child  in  her  arms,  ministering  to  her  two 
patients.  In  a  few  days  Maria  was  also  seized  with  the 
small-pox,  and  she  was  forced  to  leave  her  with  Abbe 
when  going  to  the  prison.  The  jailer,  fearing  his  chil- 
dren would  take  the  disease,  brought  them  to  be  inocu- 
lated, and  her  fame  soon  spread  so  that  almost  every 
one  in  the  village,  old  or  young,  came  to  undergo  the 
operation ;  all  these  things  added  to  her  already  press- 
ing duties.  By  incessant  watchings  and  skillful  nur- 
sing, Mr.  Judson's  fever  was  conquered  and  he  began 
elowly  to  regain  his  health.     The  children  were  also 


276         THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

rescued  from  the  usually  fatal  effect  of  their  disorder, 
and  began  to  recover. 

Their  prospects  now  seemed  brighter.  The  Pakan- 
woon  who  had  ordered  the  foreigners  there,  and  who 
intended  to  witness  their  sacrifice,  was  found  guilty  of 
embezzling  public  money  and  executed  without  even  a 
trial.  The  jailer  having  no  further  order  in  regard  to 
the  prisoners,  kept  them  in  confinement,  though  not  so 
closely  as  formerly,  a  shed  being  erected  under  which 
they  were  allowed  to  rest  during  the  day,  but  they  were 
shut  up  in  the  cell  at  night. 

However,  the  lives  of  her  dear  ones  were  only  spared 
to  Mrs.  Judson  through  the  sacrifice  of  her  own  health. 
Incessant  watching  for  four  months  had  sapped  her 
constitution  to  such  an  extent  that  she  was  completely 
prostrated  just  as  the  others  began  to  revive.  A  dis- 
order, peculiar  to  the  country,  and  nearly  always  fatal, 
seized  upon  her,  when  she  and  the  whole  family  must 
have  perished  had  it  not  been  for  the  faithfulness  of 
the  Bengalee  cook,  who  forgot  his  caste  and  served  them 
devotedly,  even  without  pay.  Mrs.  Judson  knew  she 
could  not  long  survive  in  that  condition  without  medi- 
cine and  more  wholesome  food ;  so  procuring  a  cart  she 
set  out  for  Ava  to  obtain  the  medicine-chest  from  the 
governor.  Reaching  the  city,  she  had  such  a  violent 
attack  that  she  expected  to  live  only  a  few  hours,  and 
her  only  anxiety  was  to  get  back  to  the  prison  to  die  by 
her  husband  and  child.  After  some  difficulty,  having 
obtained  the  medicine-chest,  she  managed  to  get  at  the 
laudanum,  and  by  taking  two  or  three  drops  every  hour 
she  gained  strength  to  crawl  on  board  a  boat,  being  too 
weak  to  stand.     She  could  only  go  within  four  miles  of 


277 


278  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

her  destination  in  the  boat,  the  remaining  distance  to 
be  traveled  in  that  painful  conveyance,  a  cart.  It  was 
during  the  rainy  season,  when  the  whole  sandy  plain 
was  a  lake  of  soft  mud.  The  laboring  oxen  crept  along 
at  a  snail's  pace,  floundering  in  the  mud  up  to  their 
sides.  Sometimes  the  wheels  would  rise  within  two  or 
three  inches  of  the  surface  of  the  ground  and  waddle 
along  on  firm  ground  for  a  few  yards,  then  suddenly  drop 
almost  from  sight,  the  body  of  the  cart  striking  the  mud 
with  a  splash,  and  dragging  behind  the  team  after  the 
manner  of  a  canal  boat,  the  sick  occupant  feeling  that 
almost  every  moment  would  end  her  misery  before  even 
seeing  husband  and  child. 

The  kind-hearted  cook  came  out  to  assist  her  from 
the  cart  as  it  drew  up  before  the  jailer'g  door.  But 
instead  of  the  buoyant  figure  leaping  to  the  ground  and 
rushing  to  meet  her  husband,  as  on  a  former  occasion, 
he  saw  a  haggard,  emaciated  form,  struggling  to  raise 
herself  from  the  bare  floor  of  the  cart  where  she  had 
been  compelled  to  lie  the  whole  of  the  waj'  from  the 
river.  He  assisted  her  gently  to  reach  the  door,  when 
she  crawled  feebly  to  the  mat  on  the  straw,  and  fell 
completely  exhausted.  For  the  next  two  months  she 
lay  thus,  lingering  between  life  and  death.  In  her 
moments  of  painful  consciousness  she  forgot  her  own 
afflictions  and  only  seemed  to  regret  that  she  was  unable 
to  minister  to  her  husband  and  children  as  before. 
Mahree,  though  convalescent,  was  not  yet  able  to  resume 
the  care  of  Maria,  who  was  now  the  greatest  sufferer  of 
all.  Throughout  the  long  nights  the  child  would  cry 
pitifully  for  that  nourishment  which  the  mother's 
breasts  could  no  longer  afford.     The  jailer,  weary  with. 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  279 

her  cries,  at  length  allowed  Mr.  Judson  to  come  out  of 
the  prison,  his  feet  still  tender  from  former  wounds  and 
bound  with  shackles,  and  hobble  about  the  village  with 
the  child  in  his  arms,  begging  nourishment  for  her 
from  those  mothers  who  had  young  children.  The  cook 
did  all  in  his  power  to  serve  them.  Often  he  went 
without  food  himself  for  a  whole  day,  in  his  efforts  to 
provide  something  palatable  for  his  sick  mistress  and 
fettered  master. 

But  afflictions  do  not  last  always.  Just  as  Mrs. 
Judson  began  to  recover,  good  news  was  heard  from 
down  the  river.  The  English  had  destroyed  every  army 
that  had  been  sent  against  them,  and  having  captured 
city  after  city,  were  marching  steadily  towards  the  cap- 
ital. The  king,  finding  his  name  no  longer  so  terrify- 
ing, now  began  to  sue  for  peace,  which  was  granted 
only  on  condition  that  all  white  prisoners  should  be 
released. 

One  morning  joyful  Moung  Ing  appeared  at  the  prison 
and  announced  a  message  from  the  governor  of  the 
north  gate  that  an  order  had  come  from  the  palace  for 
their  release.  The  order  arrived  in  an  official  form 
that  evening,  and  they  began  preparations  for  returning 
to  Ava.  The  avaricious  jailers  sought  to  retain  Mrs. 
Judson,  insisting  that  her  name  was  not  included  in 
the  order,  and  that  she  should  not  go.  But  by  threats 
and  promises,  and  consenting  to  leave  the  remainder  of 
the  provisions  last  procured  from  Ava,  she  was  reluc- 
tantly allowed  to  depart.  Mr.  Judson  was  carried  to 
the  court-house  at  Ava  to  act  as  interpreter.  The  rest 
of  the  family,  under  the  charge  of  Moung  Ing,  returned 
to  their  own  house  out  of  town.     Here  it  was  found  that 


280  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

he  had  managed  affairs  almost  as  well  as  if  Mr.  Judson 
had  been  there,  and  what  was  most  gratifying  of  all,  he 
had  rescued  the  manuscript  copy  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment. On  the  morning  when  the  prisoners  had  been 
sent  to  Oung-pen-la,  he  went  to  the  jail-yard  and  found 
where  Mr.  Judson's  pillow  had  been  torn  open  and  the 
roll  of  cotton  carelessly  thrown  away.  He  picked  it  up 
and  carried  it  back  to  the  house  as  a  relic,  ignorant  of 
its  valuable  contents. 

The  next  day  Mr.  Judson  received  twenty  ticals  from 
the  government,  with  instructions  to  proceed  down  the 
river  to.  the  Burmese  camp  at  Maloun,  there  to  act  as 
interpreter  for  the  English  embassadors.  The  governor 
gave  him  permission  to  stop  at  home  a  few  moments,  as 
it  was  on  his  way,  and  let  Mrs.  Judson  provide  his  cloth- 
ing and  food  for  the  trip.  All  fear  and  anxiety  was 
iiow  removed,  and  they  hoped  soon  to  see  peace  in  the 
country. 

Mrs.  Judson's  health,  which  had  not  been  fully 
restored  before  leaving  Oung-pen-la,  now  began  to 
decline,  and  in  a  few  days  she  was  attacked  with  the 
spotted  fever.  Knowing  the  nature  of  the  disease,  and 
her  own  shattered  constitution,  she  had  no  hope  of 
recovery,  and  her  greatest  anxiety  was  for  Maria  who 
would  be  left  till  her  father's  return.  But  God  never 
forgets  his  people.  The  day  she  was  taken  sick  a  Bur- 
mese nurse  appeared  and  offered  her  services,  which 
were  thankfully  received.  The  woman  would  give  no 
name,  simply  saying  that  she  had  heard  of  the  teach- 
er's illness  and  had  come  from  afar  to  see  her,  and  that 
she  was  a  Christian.  In  a  few  days  the  fever  had 
assumed  a  violent  form,  and  it  seemed  that  it  would  be 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 


281 


impossible  to  arrest  the  disease.  Dr.  Price,  on  his 
release  from  prison,  heard  of  her  illness  and  hastened 
to  see  her.  He  said  her  condition  was  the  most  dis- 
tressing he  had  ever  seen,  and  he  did  not  think  it  pos- 
sible for  her  to  live  many  hours.  He  ordered  her  head 
shaved  and  her  feet  covered  with  blisters,  instructing 
the  nurse  to  endeavor  to  persuade  her  to  take  some 
nourishment,  which  she  had  refused  to  do  for  two  or 
three  days.  She  became  unconscious,  and  the  Burmese 
neighbors  came  in  to  see  her  die.  She  fell  into  a  deep 
stupor  and  they  whispered,  "  She  is  dead ;  and  if  the 
King  of  Angels  should  come  he  could  not  recover  her." 
Finally  the  crisis  was  passed  and  she  opened  her  eyes, 
bright  with  the  light  of  reason,  for  the  first  time  in 
many  days.  The  first  thing  she  saw  was  the  faithful 
nurse  bending  over  her  entreating  her  to  take  a  little 
wine  and  water.  She  drank  the  stimulant  and  then  lay 
listlessly  gazing  into  the  nurse's  face.  At  length  she 
asked  abruptly,  "  Nurse,  who  are  you?  " 

"  A  friend  to  you,  teacher,"  she  replied  evasively. 

"  But  your  name?  " 

"  Pray,  teacher,  do  not  ask  me  to  tell  that,  it  would 
endanger  both  our  lives  while  in  the  Golden  City.  I 
will  tell  you  all  when  the  proper  time  comes." 

"Have  I  not  seen  you  before?  " 

"  Once." 

"Where?" 

"  In  Bengal.  " 

"In  Bengal?" 

u  Yes,  teacher ;  but  you  must  not  talk  any  more  now. 
Dr.  Price  told  me  to  keep  you  quiet.  I  will  go  see  after 
the  child  and  let  you  sleep." 


282  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

In  a  day  or  two  she  so  far  revived  as  to  become  more 
sensible  to  her  surroundings.  A  servant  came  one 
night  and  said  Mr.  Judson  had  returned  and  they  had 
carried  him  on  by,  to  the  court-house.  She  sent  him  in 
town  to  watch  and  see  where  they  carried  him.  He 
returned  next  morning  with  the  intelligence  that  he 
saw  his  master  conducted  from  the  court-house  towards 
one  of  the  prisons,  and  it  was  reported  that  he  was  to 
be  sent  back  to  Oung-pen-la.  The  simple  mention  of 
that  horrid  place,  in  her  present  weak  condition,  was 
almost  a  death-blow.  Mr.  Judson  sent  back  to  Oung- 
pen-la,  and  she  not  able  to  follow  him !  What  must 
be  the  consequences?  She  lay  for  some  time  completely 
stunned  by  the  shock,  then  having  regained  sufficient 
composure,  she  sent  for  Moung  Ing  and  told  him  the 
circumstance,  begging  him  to  go  in  search  of  Mr.  Jud- 
son and  to  plead  with  the  governor  to  use  his  influence 
once  more  in  their  behalf,  as  she  was  unable  to  go. 
Moung  Ing  promised  to  find  him  if  possible  and  bring 
him  back  home. 

Mr.  Judson,  on  his  way  to  Maloun,  had  been  exposed 
to  the  damp  nights,  and  the  heavy  atmosphere  of  the 
river,  which  threw  him  into  a  fever  equally  as  severe 
as  the  one  endured  in  prison,  and  which  came  near 
ending  his  life.  Reaching  the  camp  he  lay  in  a  damp 
tent  for  several  weeks,  and  explained  the  papers  that 
Were  brought  him  until  he  became  unconscious  and 
insane  from  his  sufferings.  When  he  came  to  himself 
he  was  lying  in  a  room  on  a  mat  suspended  from  the 
rafters.  Suddenly,  without  a  minute's  warning,  he  was 
placed  in  a  boat  and  sent  back  to  Ava  with  the  com- 
munication to  government :  "  We  have  no  further  use 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  283 

for  Yoodthan ;  we  therefore  return  him  to  the  Golden 
City."  He  arrived  in  the  night  and  the  guards  con- 
ducted him  past  his  own  door  to  the  court-house.  A 
feeble  light  was  burning  within,  and  he  begged  the 
guards  to  let  him  go  in  for  a  moment  and  see  if  all 
were  alive.  They  refused.  He  pleaded,  threatened  and 
tried  to  bribe  them,  all  to  no  purpose.  They  showed 
some  regard  to  his  feelings,  however,  and  said  they  had 
been  ordered  to  take  him  immediately  to  the  court- 
house, and  dared  not  disobey  lest  their  own  lives  should 
be  forfeited.  There  was  no  one  at  the  court-house  who 
was  acquainted  with  him,  and  the  presiding  officer 
having  read  the  communication,  and  not  knowing  what 
to  do  with  him,  asked  the  attendants  from  what  place 
he  had  been  sent  to  Maloun. 

"  From  Oung-pen-la,"  they  replied. 

"  Then  let  him  return  thither,"  said  the  officer.  He 
was  then-hurried  away  to  an  obscure  shed  to  await  con- 
veyance to  Oung-pen-la  Next  morning  Mrs.  Judson 
had  sent  a  servant  in  search  of  him  with  food  but  he 
could  not  be  found.  After  looking  for  him  all  day, 
Moung  Ing  approached  the  shed  near  night,  and,  to  his 
joy,  saw  the  object  of  his  search  crouching  in  a  corner. 
After  their  greetings  were  over,  Mr.  Judson's  first 
inquiry  was : 

"How  are  my  wife  and  child?  " 

"  The  child  is  as  well  as  she  usually  is,"  answered 
the  Burman  evasively,  "  and  your  wife  is  very  anxious 
about  you,  bidding  me  make  application  to  the  governor 
once  more  for  your  release." 

"  Just  like  her,"  said  Mr.  Judson,  "  always  thinking 
of  me  first,  no  matter  what  her  own  troubles  may  be. 


284  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

But  go  quickly,  Moung  Ing,  go  quickly  to  the  governor 
and  state  our  case  plainly  before  him.  He  has  always 
befriended  us  and  will  not  refuse  to  do  so  now.  Tell 
the  Tsayah-ga-dau  to  have  courage  one  day  longer.  Go 
now  to  the  governor." 

Left  alone,  he  began  to  ponder  with  himself. 

"Did  he  not  evade  my  question  in  regard  to  my  wife's 
health?  His  expression  was  peculiar  and  he  hesitated 
to  speak  of  her.  He  said  the  child  was  well,  but  he  did 
not  say  it  was  so  with  her.  Can  it  be  that  she  has  been 
suffering?  " 

Revolving  such  thoughts  in  his  mind,  doubting,  hop- 
ing, fearing,  he  passed  another  night  in  the  shed.  Early 
next  morning  the  governor  sent  for  him,  and  he  found 
that  the  kind  old  man  had  placed  himself  as  security 
for  the  prisoner  and  thus  obtained  his  final  release  from 
the  government. 

"And  now,''  said  the  governor,  when  he  had  told  him 
of  his  freedom,  "  go  to  your  wife,  for  I  know  you  are 
anxious  to  meet  her.  As  soon  as  possible  bring  her  to  my 
house  where  you  both  shall  have  a  home  as  long  as  you 
stay  in  the  Golden  City." 

He  forgot  his  maimed  ankles  and  tender  feet,  as,  with 
a  step  fleeter  than  he  had  used  for  two  years,  he  passed 
through  the  streets  to  his  own  house.  All  was  still. 
The  door  was  half  ajar.  Passing  into  the  front  room  he 
saw  the  Burmese  nurse  with  his  wan  child  m  her  arms. 
Though  with  all  a  father's  affection  for  the  little  one, 
he  was  too  anxious  to  know  the  fate  of  her  mother  to 
etop  and  caress  her.  Entering  the  next  room  a  wretched 
Bight  met  his  gaze.  Lying  acoss  the  bed,  as  if  she  had 
tried  to  arise  and  had  fallen,  lay  the  form  of  his  wife, 


THE    CHILD    OF   THE   GANGES.  285 

but  so  altered  and  emaciated  that  lie  would  have  scarcely 
recognized  her  elsewhere.  The  face  that  had  once  been 
so  fair  and  round,  was  haggard,  pinched  and  white.  The 
glossy  black  curls  that  had  so  beautifully  adorned  her 
shapely  head  were  gone,  and  a  closely-fitting  cotton  cap 
took  their  place.  His  own  bodily  sufferings  had  been 
light  compared  with  the  mental  anguish  he  experienced 
on  seeing  her  thus.  Bending  sorrowfully  down  to  kiss 
her  sleeping  face,  a  tear-drop  fell  from  his  brimming 
eyes  upon  her  wasted  cheek.  It  aroused  her.  She  opened 
her  eyes  and  looked  him  joyfully  in  the  face.  He  clasped 
her  in  his  arms,  and  there  we  leave  them.  A  scene  too 
sacred  for  strangers  to  behold. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

"  There's  a  bliss  beyond  all  that  the  minstrel  has  told, 
When  two,  that  are  linked  in  one  heavenly  tie, 
With  heart  never  changing,  and  brow  never  cold, 
Love  on  through  all  ills,  and  love  on  till  they  die. 
One  hour  of  a  passion  so  sacred  is  worth 
Whole  ages  of  heartless  and  wandering  bliss ; 
And,  O !  if  there  be  an  Elysium  on  earth 
It  is  this,  it  is  this." 


— Moore. 


The  government  had  several  times  broken  off  the 
negotiations  pending  between  them  and  the  enemy,  but 
at  length,  even  the  proud  heart  of  the  king  was  hum- 
bled by  the  near  approach  of  the  English,  and  he  agreed 
to  their  stipulations,  surrendering  all  prisoners,  and 
ceding  to  England  a  considerable  portion  of  his  terri- 
tory, and  promising  to  pay  large  sums  of  money  besides. 
The  missionaries  had  rendered  invaluable  service  in 
the  transactions  of  peace,  and  the  king,  sensible  of  their 
service,  invited  them  to  remain  at  Ava  as  citizens.  Dr. 
Price  accepted  the  invitation,  but  Mr.  Judson,  partly  for 
the  sake  of  his  family,  and  mainly  because  he  thought 
he  could  be  more  useful  elsewhere,  made  arrangements  to 
depart,  at  the  earliest  convenience,  for  the  English 
camp. 

It  was  on  a  cool,  moon-light  evening,  when,  with  his 
family,  and  property,  in  six  or  eight  of  his  majesty's 
golden  boats,  he  launched  upon  the  broad,  placid  bosom 
of  the  Irrawaddy,  and  turned  his  back  once  more  upon 
the  golden  city.     His  wife  was  by  his   side,  and  little 

(286) 


THE    CHILD    OF   THE   GANGES.  287 

Maria  in  his  arms,  while  Moung  Ing  followed  behind  in 
another  boat  with  Mahree,  Abbe,  the  Bengalee  cook,  and 
the  Burman  nurse,  who  begged  to  stay  with  the  teachers 
always. 

A  boat-ride  by  moon-light  is  pleasant  under  almost 
any  circumstances ;  with  your  loved  one  by  your  side 
it  is  peculiarly  delightful ;  but  under  present  circum- 
stances, who  can  appreciate  it !  There  was  to  the  mis- 
sionaries a  delicious  thrill  of  joy,  such  as  can  only  be 
experienced  by  those  who  have  come  up  through  great 
tribulations.  Only  a  delivered  captive  can  properly 
estimate  the  depth  of  the  meaning  of  that  simple  word 
—free.  Free  from  the  frown  of  the  haughty  king;  free 
from  the  horrible  scenes  of  the  Let-ma-yoon  ;  free  from 
the  oppressions  of  Oung-pen-la;  this  night  is  the  most 
blissful  of  their  life.  Said  Mr.  Judson  afterwards,  "  I 
can  never  regret  my  twenty-one  months  of  misery  when 
I  recall  that  one  delicious  thrill.  I  think  I  have  had  a 
better  appreciation  of  what  heaven  may  be  ever  since." 

The  reception  of  a  white  lady  was  an  unusual  occur- 
rence in  an  English  camp,  especially  in  that  country 
where  they  had  never  seen  a  white  female.  Mrs.  Jud- 
son's  fame  had  gone  before  her,  and  the  English  gen- 
eral, Sir  Archibald  Campbell,  made  extensive  prepara- 
tions for  her  accommodation.  He  had  a  tent  erected 
for  her,  larger  than  hk  own,  and  with  the  agreeable 
addition  of  a  veranda;  and  his  own  son  was  sent  forth, 
with  an  escort  of  staff  officers,  to  meet  her.  Both  she  and 
her  husband  were  greatly  endeared  to  Sir  Archibald  for 
his  fatherly  kindness,  manifested  in  many  instances 
during  their  stay  at  the  camp.  Henry  Havelock,  a 
young  assistant-adjutant-general,  whose  famous  career 


288  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

as  a  soldier  began  with  this  war,  and  who  shall  after- 
wards figure  prominently  in  our  story,  was  one  of  the  offi- 
cers who  met  and  escorted  the  missionaries  to  the  camp. 

A  few  days  after,  General  Campbell  gave  a  magnifi- 
cent dinner  to  the  Burmese  commissioners  who  had 
been  sent  down  from  the  palace  to  complete  negotiations 
for  peace.  The  whole  camp  was  turned  into  a  scene  of 
gorgeous  display,  with  such  a  profusion  of  gold  and  crim- 
son, and  floating  banners  as  would  put  to  shame  even 
the  gaudy  parades  of  the  Great  White  Elephant  on 
gala  days,  in  the  golden  city.  A  bountiful  table  was 
spread  in  a  broad  pavilion  erected  for  the  occasion. 
When  the  hour  arrived  for  dinner  the  whole  company 
marched  in  couples  to  the  music  of  a  band,  towards  the 
table,  the  general  walking  alone  in  front.  Opposite  the 
tent  with  the  veranda  the  whole  procession  halted,  the 
music  suddenly  ceased,  and  the  general  entered  the 
tent,  re-appearing  in  a  few  moments  with  Mrs.  Judson 
on  his  arm,  much  to  the  discomfort  of  the  conscience- 
smitten  commissioners,  who  realized  that  they  were 
now  in  her  power  if  she  should  show  herself  at  all  vin- 
dictive. The  general  led  Mrs.  Judson  to  the  table  and 
seated  her  at  his  own  right  hand,  while  the  commis- 
sioners shrank  into  their  seats  abashed.  They  could 
not  have  exhibited  greater  fear  if  suddenly  called  upon 
to  stand  before  the  golden  face.  General  Campbell 
began  to  suspect  the  cause  of  their  uneasiness  which 
afforded  him  great  amusement. 

"  I  fancy  these  gentlemen  must  be  old  acquaintances 
of  yours,  Mrs.  Judson,"  he  remarked,  "and,  judging 
from  their  appearance,  you  must  have  treated  them 
very  ill." 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  289 

Mrs.  Judson  simply  smiled  as  she  glanced  at  the  ter- 
rified group,  who,  although  unable  to  translate  the 
remark  spoken  in  English,  suspected  that  they  were 
the  objects  of  it. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  yonder  owner  of  the  pointed 
beard?"  continued  the  general,  "he  seems  to  be  seized 
with  an  ague  fit." 

"I  do  not  know,"  she  said,  fixing  her  eyes  mischiev- 
ously on  the  trembler,  "  unless  his  memory  may  be  too 
busy.  He  is  an  old  acquaintance  of  mine,  and  may 
probably  infer  danger  to  himself  from  seeing  me  under 
your  protection." 

"How  so?" 

"When  Mr.  Judson  was  in  the  death  prison,  sick  with 
fever,  stifled  with  the  loathsome  air,  and  bound  with  five 
pairs  of  fetters,  I  walked  several  miles  to  this  gentleman's 
house  to  ask  a  favor.  I  went  soon  in  the  morning, 
but  he  held  me  waiting  till  noon  before  hearing  my 
request,  and  then  roughly  refused  it.  As  I  was  turning 
sorrowfully  away,  his  avaricious  eyes  were  attracted  by 
the  silk  umbrella  which  I  carried,  and  he  rudely 
snatched  it  from  my  hands.  I  begged  him  to  restore  it, 
pleading  that  I  could  not  buy  another  as  my  money 
was  at  home,  and  it  would  endanger  my  life  to  walk 
through  the  heat  of  noon  without  one,  but  he  would 
not  listen.  I  then  begged  that  he  would  at  least  give 
mo  a  paper  one  instead,  to  protect  me  from  the  scorch- 
ing heat.  He  laughed  scornfully  as  he  looked  on  my 
wasted  form.  l  It  is  only  stout  people  that  are  in  dan- 
of  sunstroke/  he  said,  'the  sun  could  not  find  such  as 
you.'  He  then  shut  the  door  in  my  face  and  turned 
me  away  to  walk  the  long  distance  with  no  protection 
except  my  bonnet." 


290  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

The  officers,  who  had  been  listening  to  this  narrative 
of  brutality,  could  not  restrain  an  outburst  of  indig- 
nation at  such  treatment.  The  poor  Burman  sat  in  his 
seat,  his  features  tortured  with  fear  and  great  drops  of 
perspiration  oozing  from  his  deathly-pale  face,  while 
his  body  trembled  like  an  aspen.  Mrs.  Judson  felt 
nothing  but  pity  for  him,  and  remarked  softly  in  Bur- 
man  that  he  had  nothing  to  fear.  Sir  Archibald  now 
turned  the  conversation,  and  tried  in  every  way  to  render 
his  guests  comfortable ;  but  their  own  consciences  smote 
them  too  heavily,  and  they  were  glad  when  an  opportu- 
nity was  presented  for  them  to  escape  the  presence  of 
those  whom  they  had  so  shamefully  treated. 

The  fortnight  which  the  Judsons  spent  at  the  English 
camp  was  the  happiest  period  of  their  lives ;  but  Mr. 
Judson  was  anxious  to  once  more  resume  his  work,  from 
which  he  had  lost  so  much  time.  After  bidding  a 
reluctant  farewell  to  the  fatherly  general  and  his  cour- 
teous officers,  they  departed,  and  after  a  little  more  than 
two  years'  absence  landed  again  in  Rangoon. 

Before  taking  our  final  leave  of  the  British  camp,  we 
must  not  omit  to  notice  one  event,  which  was  not  the 
least  important  incident  of  the  occasion,  at  least  to  two 
of  the  parties  concerned. 

During  the  two  years  that  have  passed  since  Mahree, 
a  shy,  black-eyed  lass,  entered  the  home  of  Mrs.  Jud- 
son, she  has  rapidly  developed  into  a  full-grown  young 
lady.  The  small-pox,  instead  of  retarding,  by  a  lucky 
turn,  had  advanced  her  growth ;  nor  had  it  left  a  sin- 
gle mark  to  disfigure  her  face,  which  was  now  as  beau- 
tiful as  that  of  the  unfortunate  princess  of  Kathay. 


THE    CHILD    OF   THE   GANGES.  291 

Added  to  her  physical  charms  was  that  modest  Chris- 
tian disposition,  imbibed  from  so  long  a  contact  with 
the  "white  mamma,"  whom  she  considered  a  perfect 
ideal  of  true  womanhood.  Her  education  had  not  been 
neglected  even  in  all  their  trials  and  sufferings ;  while 
her  devotion  to  the  feeble  child  and  daily  participation 
in  Mrs.  Judson's  heroic  efforts  for  the  comfort  of  the 
prisoners  rendered  her  peculiarly  well  qualified  for  the 
scenes  in  which  she  should  afterward  engage. 

Robert  Stuart,  one  of  General  Campbell's  staff  offi- 
cers, and  a  companion  of  Havelock,  became  very  much 
enamored  of  the  beautiful  Burman  maiden,  and,  con- 
scious of  her  rare  accomplishments,  resolved  to  win  her 
for  his  wife  During  the  two  weeks  of  her  stay  he 
often  sought  her  presence,  as  she  sat  alone  under  the 
open  veranda  with  the  child  in  her  arms.  At  first  she 
was  rather  shy  of  his  presence,  never  before  having 
seen  a  young  Englishman,  especially  a  soldier.  But  as 
he  seemed  to  direct  his  attention  mainly  to  the  child, 
and  hinted  no  intimation  of  his  intentions,  she  gradu- 
ally lost  her  reserve,  and  began  to  expect,  then  long  for 
his  coming — feeling  disappointed  if  he  did  not  appear. 
He  gave  her  interesting  accounts  of  life  in  England 
and  told  racy  stories  of  his  college  life  with  his  chum, 
the  studious,  noble-minded  Havelock,  and  of  their  high 
ambitions  in  going  to  India  as  soldiers.  Then,  at  inter- 
vals, he  drew  from  her  the  tragedies  of  Ava  and  Oung- 
pen-la,  with  some  of  the  mysteries  connected  with  her 
own  origin. 

It  was  not  long  till  he  could  tell,  from  the  glad  light 
that  shone  in  her  eyes  whenever  he  approached,  that 
his  love  was  in  some  measure  reciprocated. 


292  CHILD   OF   THE   GANGES. 

It  was  the  evening  before  the  Judsons  were  to  return 
to  Rangoon  that  the  two  were  sitting,  as  usual,  before 
the  tent  at  twilight.  The  time  was  one  when  sentiment 
is  always  the  strongest.  The  moon  was  peeping  shyly 
through  the  thick  boughs  of  the  cypress  and  mango 
trees  that  surrounded  the  camp;  lights  were  beginning 
to  glimmer  in  the  tents  along  the  shore,  and  to  be 
reflected  from  the  steamer  in  the  quiet  waters  below. 
Crickets  and  katydids  began  their  serenade,  and  from 
one  of  the  tents  floated  a  soft  Scottish  air,  the  melody 
of  the  Highlands. 

The  lovers  sat  in  silence.  Their  conversation  had 
several  times  approached  the  subject  nearest  the  heart 
of  each;  but  she,  though  not  seemingly  displeased, 
had  artfully  managed  to  change  the  subject  each  time 
before  it  reached  a  point,  and  he  had  not  the  cour- 
age to  press  it.  Such  a  strange  thing  is  love !  Even  a 
brave-hearted  soldier,  who  could  unflinchingly  with- 
stand the  terror  of  the  Golden  Face,  is  overcome  in 
the  presence  of  a  modest  Burman  girl.  But  knowing 
this  to  be  his  last  opportunity  of  meeting  her,  he  made 
a  great  effort  to  break  the  embarrassing  silence,  and 
falteringly  told  her  his  feelings  from  the  time  he  first 
saw  her,  and  how  the  passion  had  grown  upon  him  till 
he  could  no  longer  think  of  living  without  her.  But 
he  was  struck  with  astonishment  and  consternation 
at  the  manner  in  which  she  received  his  confession. 
Springing  to  her  feet,  she  clasped  the  child  in  her 
arms,  exclaiming : 

"Hush!  You  must  not  talk  so;  indeed  you  must 
not."  And  before  he  could  detain  her,  she  rushed  into 
the  tent  to  Mrs.  Judson's  apartment. 


THE   CHILD   OF   THE    GANGES.  293 

Much  wondering  at  this  unexpected  freak,  he  sat  for 
some  time,  waiting  to  see  if  she  would  not  return. 
Then,  in  bitter  disappointment,  he  strode  away.  He 
went  to  his  own  tent,  but  he  could  not  rest.  Even  the 
music  of  the  band  gave  him  no  relief.  Coming  out 
again,  he  wandered  for  hours  on  the  river  bank  in  front 
of  the  tents,  kicking  the  turf  into  the  water  and  mut- 
tering to  himself,  "  What  can  the  silly  girl  mean?  She 
certainly  could  not  intend  that  for  a  flat  refusal.  I  am 
satisfied  she  loves  me ;  and  yet  she  knows  this  is  the 
last  opportunity.  Perhaps  she  may  reconsider  and 
come  out  again.' 

So  he  lingered  in  front  of  the  veranda  till  the  lights 
were  extinguished  and  he  knew  all  had  retired.  He 
then  entered  his  own  tent,  where  he  lay  tossing  rest- 
lessly till  morning. 

Ah !  young  man,  you  need  not  have  been  surprised 
at  that  singularity  of  feminine  behavior.  I  expect 
they  all  do  that  way,  judging  from  what  the  novelists 
say.  Milton  pictures  Eve  as  running  from  Adam  the 
first  time  she  saw  him,  though  she  loved  him  better 
than  life.  It  was  not  artfulness,  but  nature.  That  shy 
girl  had  never  mingled  with  belles  of  civilized  society, 
to  learn  coquetry.  But  it  looks  sweet,  after  all,  does  it 
not  ?  There  is  a  philosophy  about  it  that  even  Plato 
could  not  explain ;  a  feeling,  even  amid  a  man's  disap- 
pointment, that  she  appeared  better  for  the  action,  and 
he  is  more  fired  with  a  resolve  to  conquer  or  die. 

Within  a  few  days  after  the  departure  of  the  mis- 
sionaries, Havelock  was  ordered  to  Rangoon  with  his 
detachment  to  hold  that  city  till  the  Burmese  govern- 
ment should  pay  the  war  debt.     Sir  Archibald,  himself, 


294         THE  CHILD  OP  THE  GANGES. 

was  to  depart  in  a  few  days  with  the  main  army  to 
Bengal.  Stuart  begged  to  be  allowed  to  remain  with 
his  command  in  Rangoon  for  awhile,  as  he  did  not  wish 
to  be  separated  from  a  part  of  his  forces  under  Have- 
lock.  There  was  a  twinkle  in  the  good-natured  gen- 
eral's eyes  as  he  suspected  the  true  reason  of  the  request, 
but  it  was  kindly  granted,  and  the  two  officers  were  left 
in  charge  of  the  city  which  guarded  the  entrance  to  all 
Burmah. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


Maiden !  with  the  meek,  brown  eyes, 
In  whose  orbs  a  shadow  lies 
Like  the  dusk  in  evening  skies  f 

Standing,  with  reluctant  feet, 
Where  the  brook  and  river  meet, 
Womanhood  and  childhood  fleet ! 


—Longfellow. 


On  his  arrival  at  Rangoon  Mr.  Judson  found  the  little 
church  of  eighteen  scattered  in  every  direction  by  the 
war.  Moung  Shwa-gnong  had  gone  into  the  interior 
and  died  with  the  cholera,  and  only  four  of  the  original 
membership,  including  Moung  Ing,  could  be  found. 
Messrs.  Wade  and  Hough  had  narrowly  escaped  with 
their  lives,  being  already  under  the  knife  of  the  execu- 
tioner when  rescued  by  the  British.  Their  brave  wives 
disguised  themselves,  and  joining  them  they  proceeded 
to  Calcutta  to  await  the  issue  of  the  war,  and  were  now 
ready  to  join  Mr.  Judson  in  whatever  place  he  should 
establish  the  mission. 

The  English  government,  recognizing  the  value  of 
Mr.  Judson's  services,  offered  him  a  salary  equivalent 
to  three  thousand  dollars  to  act  as  interpreter  for  them; 
but  he  refused,  as  he  had  "no  time  to  make  money.', 
But  as  his  services  were  to  some  extent  indispensable, 
he  consented  to  accompany  Mr.  Crawford,  the  commis- 
sioner of  the  East  India  Company,  on  an  expedition  to 
choose  a  suitable  site  for  the  capital  of  the  ceded  Bur- 
man  provinces,  now  British  Burmah.     He  did  not  now 

(295) 


296  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

so  much  dread  to  leave  his  family  alone,  since  they 
would  be  under  the  protection  of  the  English  garrison. 
So  intrusting  them  to  Moung  Ing  he  sailed  with  the 
commissioner.  They  selected  a  high,  beautiful  pro- 
montory at  the  mouth  of  the  Salwen  river.  In  honor  of 
the  Governor-General,  Mr.  Crawford  named  the  site 
Amherst.  Here  it  was  proposed  to  found  a  city  in 
which  a  garrison  should  continually  reside,  an  asylum 
for  those  oppressed  by  Burman  despotism,  and  a  place 
where  no  restrictions  should  interfere  with  religious 
liberty.  Mr.  Judson  at  once  concluded  that  this  would 
be  the  most  suitable  place  for  his  mission,  as  Rangoon 
would  be  again  under  the  power  of  the  Golden  Face 
when  the  English  should  vacate  the  city  for  this  place. 
Besides,  the  free  government  would  draw  a  large  popu- 
lation and  render  circumstances  remarkably  favorable 
for  missionary  labor.  His  hopes  of  the  future  were 
now  brighter  than  ever  before.  Here  he  would  bring 
his  wife  and  child,  with  the  faithful  disciples  left  at 
Rangoon,  and  take  possession  of  the  new  city  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts. 

It  was  the  evening  after  Mr.  Judson's  departure. 
The  three  remaining  disciples  in  the  city  had  just  been 
at  the  mission-house,  and  before  they  left  Moung  Ing 
had  gathered  them  in  the  room  with  the  family 
and  himself  conducted  the  evening  worship;  after 
which  they  enjoyed  a  few  moments  of  delightful  con- 
versation concerning  the  goodness  of  God  to  his  crea- 
tures, and  the  accompanying  joy  of  trusting  in  him. 
Mrs.  Judson,  whose  recent  sufferings  so  well  qualified 
her  for  an  understanding  of  such  things,  led  in  the 


THE    CHILD    OF   THE   GANGES.  297 

conversation.  It  was  a  delightful  hour.  The  Burmese 
nurse  from  Bengal  also  testified  of  the  unbounded  mercy 
that  had  saved  her  and  given  her  so  much  happiness. 
Moung  Ing  saw  her  face  aglow  with  light,  and  he  cov- 
ered his  face  with  his  hands,  not  altogether  because  he 
was  affected  by  what  she  said,  but  because  in  her  eye 
he  saw  a  gleam  that  recalled  a  tender  recollection  of 
the  past — a  memory  which  he  had  tried  to  forget.  She, 
too,  had  often  started  at  some  expression  of  his,  but 
neither  could  explain  the  mysterious  sympathy  that 
existed  between  them. 

Moung  Ing,  engaged  in  his  duties  generally  in  silence, 
often  had  thoughts  and  feelings  that  no  one  would  have 
suspected  in  him.  From  the  time  when  the  two  little 
Burmese  girls  were  brought  to  Mrs.  Judson,  he  had 
shown  for  them  a  fatherly  devotion,  especially  for 
Mahree,  toward  whom  he  felt  strangely  drawn.  Though 
having  undergone  hardships  innumerable  during  the 
past  fifteen  years  or  more,  the  old  affections  of  earth 
still  clung  to  him,  and  his  strong  heart  had  in  it  a  place 
of  sympathy  for  every  one  in  distress  or  deprived  of 
friends.  One  day,  while  alone  with  Mrs.  Judson,  he 
astonished  her  by  asking : 

"Teacher,  did  you  ever  notice,  or  fancy,  any  resem- 
blance between  Mahree  and  your  nurse?  " 

"Why,  no,  Moung  Ing,"  she  replied,  "why  do  you 
ask?" 

"I  don't  know  what  it  is,  teacher,  but  something 
moves  me  strongly  whenever  I  see  them  together.  I 
wish  I  knew  her  history." 

"  I  have  asked  her  for  that  repeatedly,"  said  Mrs. 
Judson,  "  but  she  refuses.     She  says  I  should  recognize 


298  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

her  if  I  knew  it,  as  I  have  once  heard  it,  and  she  wished 
not  to  be  known  yet.'7 

"Please  ask  her  one  question  for  me,"  he  said. 
"Whether  she  ever  had  a  child?  " 

He  then  went  about  his  duties,  leaving  her  wondering 
at  his  strange  question.  Presently  the  nurse  came  to 
bring  her  some  tea — this  was  while  at  Ava.  After  drink- 
ing the  beverage,  Mrs.  Judson  looked  her  in  the  face 
and  inquired : 

"Nurse,  did  you  once  have  a  child  like  my  little 
Maria?" 

The  poor  creature's  eyes  filled  with  tears  and  she 
trembled  painfully  as  she  said : 

"  0,  teacher,  would  you  kill  me  by  continuing  to  ask 
about  my  past,  so  sad  and  dark?  I  did  once  have  a 
little  daughter  as  lovely  as  the  sun  ever  saw,  but  please 
do  not  ask  me  more  now.  I  will  tell  you  all  some 
day." 

Twilight  was  slowly  creeping  over  the  land.  The 
little  company  had  dispersed  from  the  mission-house. 
Moung  Ing  was  overlooking  the  preparation  of  supper. 
Mrs.  Judson  had  just  gone  toward  the  clump  of  mango 
trees,  in  the  yard,  with  a  pail  of  water  with  which  to 
sprinkle  some  flowers  which  she  had  lately  planted 
about  little  Roger's  grave.  Mahree  was  sitting  on  the 
veranda,  rocking  back  and  forth,  with  the  child  in  her 
arms,  and  singing  a  lullaby  which  the  nurse  had  taught 
her.  Her  own  voice  and  the  noise  of  the  rockers  on  the 
boards  prevented  her  from  hearing  a  quick,  military 
step  approach  the  veranda.  A  hand  was  laid  upon  the 
back  of  her  chair,  and  looking  up,  she  was  startled  to 


THE   CHILD   OF   THE   GANGES.  299 

see  the  tall,  handsome  form  of  Robert  Stuart  at  her 
side. 

"  Ah !  my  bird,  I  have  caught  you  at  last,"  he  said  as 
he  clasped  her  hand  and  seated  himself  on  a  bench  by 
her  side. 

At  first  she  showed  some  inclination  to  run  away,  but 
the  child  was  sleeping  and  he  held  to  her  hand.  So 
she  quietly  submitted  to  her  fate,  her  eyes  drooping 
and  her  bosom  heaving. 

"MahreeJ  "  he  said  passionately,  "I  want  to  know 
why  you  treated  me  so  cruelly  the  other  night  at  the 
camp.  For  mercy's  sake,  if  you  have  any  pity  in  your 
soul,  or  any  tenderness  in  your  heart,  do  not  again  tor- 
ture me  by  such  a  rebuff.  A  plain  refusal  would  not 
have  been  so  painful  as  an  act  that  thus  held  me  in  sus- 
pense. Do  tell  me  candidly,  the  feelings  of  your  heart 
for  me.     Will  you  not?  " 

"  Robert,"  she  said  softy,  and  a  faint  flush  tinged  her 
brown  cheek  as  she  spoke  his  name  with  trembling  lips. 
His  heart  gave  a  great  bound  as  she  continued:  "I 
have  not  been  insensible  to  your  attentions.  In  fact,  I 
fear  I  did  wrong  by  allowing  you  to  go  so  far,  but  it 
was  really  a  pleasure  to  me,  though  I  knew  nothing 
could  come  of  it,  and  hoped  you  would  not  think  seri- 
ously of  wedding  a  nameless  heathen  girl.  I  can  only 
justify  myself  in  that  I  never  thought  you  would  declare 
yourself,  and  that  you  would  never  see  me  again  after 
I  left  the  English  camp.  But  since  you  have  shown 
this  earnestness  in  coming  so  far  to  see  me,  and  have 
asked  me  for  a  candid  answer,  I  reply,  I  do  love  you, 
but  I  wish,  for  the  sake  of  both,  it  was  not  so.     We  can 


300         THE  CHILD  GF  THE  GANGES. 

"  Say  not  so,  Mahree,"  he  interrupted,  "  having  ac- 
knowledged that  you  love  me,  nothing  on  earth  shall 
prevail  to  keep  us  apart.  I  will  overcome  every  obsta- 
cle.    Tell  me  one  reason  why  you  cannot  marry  me." 

"  The  first  and  greatest,"  she  said,  "  is  that  I  intend 
to  be  a  missionary.  Since  I  have  been  with  my  white 
mamma  I  have  been  made  to  feel  the  importance  of  the 
work,  and  her  noble  example  has  so  influenced  me  that 
I  cannot  sacrifice  the  Lord's  work  for  my  own  pleasure. 
She  can  love  and  labor,  too,  having  her  husband  with 
her.  That  I  could  not  do,  you  being  a  soldier  and  en- 
gaged in  an  entirely  different  occupation.  That  is  why 
I  regret  we  ever  loved." 

"  I  understand  your  excuse,  Mahree,  and  I  love  you 
better  for  it ;  but  when  you  know  more  fully  my  mission 
in  the  Indian  army  you  can  no  longer  cling  to  that.  It 
is  not  for  the  glory  of  a  soldier's  fame  that  Havelock 
and  I  entered  the  service  We,  too,  are  missionaries ; 
and,  though  in  somewhat  a  different  sense  from  the 
ministers,  our  influence  is  none  the  less  felt,  and  will 
go  equally  as  far  in  disseminating  the  grand  truths  of 
Christianity.  With  our  troops,  we  are  to  be  stationed 
at  various  posts,  there,  by  military  authority,  to  restrain 
lawlessness,  and  by  Christian  influence,  to  encourage 
religion.  Our  regiments  are  composed  of  God-fear- 
ing men,  and  we  gather  them  together  every  day  for 
prayers,  and  hold  public  worship  in  Havelock's  tent 
every  Sunday.  It  is  not  necessary  that  we  should  go  to 
a  zayat  and  teach,  to  be  missionaries.  While  our  work 
is  not  aimed  directly  to  the  natives,  it  indirectly  bears 
upon  them  through  the  conduct  of  our  orderly  bands. 
Could  you  not  be  a  missionary  in  the  camp,  and  aid  me 
in  that  enterprise,  equally  as  important  as  any?  " 


THE    CHILD   OF    THE   GANGES. 


301 


"  I  confess,"  she  replied, "  that  your  words  have  caused 
me  to  see  things  in  a  new  light.  My  convictions  stagger 
between  the  prospects  of  the  field  I  had  in  view  and 
the  one  you  suggest.  Perhaps  you  have  chosen  the  best 
way.  I  can't  tell.  It  is  so  different  from  anything  I 
had  ever  dreamed  of.  I  must  have  further  time  to  con- 
sider. But,  even  then,  another  barrier  arises  which  you 
cannot  surmount,  nor  I,  as  yet." 

"What  is  it?" 

"  I  will  not  wed  while  there  exists  such  a  mystery  in 
connection  with  my  origin.     I  am  a  nameless  girl." 

"I  can  remove  that  difficulty,"  he  said. 

"How?" 

"  By  giving  you  my  own  name." 

"  No,"  she  replied,  "  that  does  not  remove  it.  I  love 
you  too  much  to  have  it  said  in  India  that  you  have 
married  a  pariah,  a  waif  of  the  jungle.  I  shall  never 
marry  till  the  mystery  is  solved." 

"But  is  there  no  clue  to  your  identity?  The  man 
who  brought  you  to  Mrs.  Judson,  does  he  not  know 
something?" 

"  Nothing  more  than  he  told  her.  He  said,  as  his 
wife  was  insane,  all  must  depend  on  the  contents  of  the 
little  casket  which  is  now  locked  away  in  the  trunk." 

"  When  may  it  be  opened?" 

"When  I  am  of  age,  they  say." 

"  Are  you  not  that  qow?  " 

"  No  one  knows  my  age,  but  it  is  more  than  they 
think.  I  was  small  when  carried  to  the  mission  house, 
but  I  know  I  was  at  least  sixteen  then,  and  it  has  been 
two  years  since.  But  I  shall  quietly  wait  till  mamma 
thinks  me  old  enough.     I  could  not  leave  her  and  little 


302  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

Maria  now,"  and  she  drew  the  sleeping  child  closer  to 
her  bosom. 

Robert  sat  for  a  few  moments  in  silence,  musing 
sadly  and  gazing  thoughtfully  into  the  fair  face  of  the 
maiden.     Presently  she  remarked : 

"  There  has  always  been  something  strange  connected 
with  me.  I  have  not  been  as  other  girls.  One  of  my 
first  impressions  was  a  great  horror  of  water.  They 
used  to  carry  me  out  on  the  Irrawaddy  in  the  king's 
boat,  but  I  always  shrank  from  looking  at  it  and  shiv- 
ered when  brought  near,  though  I  have  since  overcome 
the  feeling.  I  know  I  was  but  an  infant,  but  I  have  a 
vague,  indistinct  recollection  of  crossing  the  sea  once, 
and  of  being  brought  to  this  very  house  in  a  white 
man's  arms.  Then  all  is  blank  for  several  years,  till  I 
was  carried  to  the  Golden  City.  Even  then  I  thought 
as  in  a  dream  I  had  seen  the  king's  palace  before.  Of 
course  it  is  not  so,  but  is  it  not  strange  those  things 
should  come  over  me?  " 

"  It  is  indeed,"  he  said,  "  and  there  must  be  some- 
thing behind  it  all.  But  if  this  difficulty  is  to  prevent 
our  union,  I  will  remove  it  at  any  cost.  Nothing  shall 
stand  between  us,  though  I  see  no  reason  why  this 
should.  I  would  value  you  as  highly  as  I  would  if  I 
knew  you  were  the  daughter  of  the  Golden  Face  him- 
self." 

"  How  would  you  remove  it?  "  she  asked. 

"I  would  seek  the  white  teacher  who  brought  you  here." 

"Where  would  you  seek  him?  He  is  a  restless  wan- 
derer, and  has  long  since  left  Burmah." 

"  I  will  inquire  of  his  father  in  Bengal.  I  will  give 
up  my  command   and   search  the  earth  or  find  him. 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  303 

You  do  not  realize  the  detormination  of  a  man  in  love 
when  he  sees  the  object  of  his  desire  about  to  escape 
him.  I  will  marry  you,  Mahree,  within  the  next  six 
months,  and  all  shall  be  clear.  God  will  help  me  to 
find  Felix  Carey.  But  there,  the  bugle  calls  me  to 
camp.  I  must  go.  May  I  not  kiss  you  good-night? " 
he  asked  as  he  rose  to  his  feet, 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  not  yet.  We  can  only  be  friends 
till  then.  I  shall  still  love  you  and  pray  for  you,  but 
we  will  not  speak  of  this  again  till  all  is  known.  Do 
you  think  we  should?" 

"  Perhaps  it  is  best  as  you  say,"  he  answered,  "  but 
I  will  at  least  kiss  the  child." 

Bending  over,  he  kissed  the  wan  cheek  of  the  little 
sleeper,  and  clasping  for  a  moment  the  hand  of  her 
fair  nurse,  he  hastily  departed  in  the  direction  of  the 
gunboats,  leaving  Mahree  to  ponder  in  silence  the 
strange,  new  thoughts  that  had  been  suggested. 

It  was  now  growing  dark,  and  Mrs.  Judson  came  in 
from  the  grove,  her  pail  in  her  hand.  Stopping  in  the 
veranda,  she  imprinted  a  motherly  caress  on  the  cheek 
both  of  Mahree  and  the  babe.  She  noticed  that  the 
girl  seemed  agitated,  but  not  having  heard  of  the  new 
arrivals  she  could  not  divine  the  cause.  Passing  into 
the  room  she  lighted  the  lamp,  and  sitting  down  at  her 
desk,  began  a  letter  to  her  husband's  brother  in  Ame- 
rica, telling  him  of  the  horrible  scenes  through  which 
they  had  come,  and  explaining  the  two  years  of  silence. 
....... 

Mr.  Judson  returned  highly  elated  with  the  prospect 
cf  a  mission  at  Amherst,  and  upon  relating  his  views 
to  his  family  and  the  disciples,  all  were  of  his  opinion 


304  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

and  readily  proposed  to  proceed  there  at  once.  A  gun- 
boat, with  a  detachment  of  soldiers,  was  to  depart  from 
Rangoon  for  that  place  in  a  few  days,  and  when  it 
sailed  it  carried  the  missionaries  and  all  the  native 
Christians. 

The  spot  selected  was  entirely  a  jungle  as  yet,  with- 
out a  single  house,  but  on  the  arrival  of  the  troops  and 
missionaries,  three  hundred  Burmans  were  already  on 
the  ground,  and  reported  three  thousand  on  their  way 
in  boats.  The  missionaries  took  up  their  temporary 
residence  in  the  tent  of  an  English  officer  till  a  house 
could  be  erected. 


BOOK  SIXTH. 


CHAPTER  I. 

"  Dark  Burman  faces  are  around  her  bed, 
And  one  pale  babe— to  hush  w  ho:c  wailing  cry 
She  checks  the  death-groan,  and  with  fond  embrace, 
Still  clasps  it  firmly  to  her  icy  breast, 
E'en  till  the  heart-strings  break." 

—Mrs.  Sigoumey. 

Thirteen  years  have  passed  since  the  missionaries 
first  landed  in  Burmah.  Yet,  after  all  this  time,  it 
seemed  that  they  were  just  now  to  begin  their  labors. 
The  field  was  open,  the  language  acquired,  the  New 
Testament  translated,  and  all  things  ready.  They 
anticipated  great  results  from  the  effects  of  the  war, 
which  had  seemed  so  disastrous  to  their  cause  while  it 
lasted.  Now  the  storm  was  over  and  the  rainbow  of 
promise  spanned  the  heavens  in  resplendent  glory. 

But  before  beginning  their  work,  Mr.  Judson  was 
once  more  called  upon  to  assist  the  English  Commis- 
sioner, Mr.  Crawford.  He  had  been  appointed  envoy 
to  Ava  to  negotiate  a  commercial  treaty  with  the  king, 
and  desired  Mr.  Judson  to  accompany  with  as  inter- 
preter. The  latter  refused  for  some  time,  being  unwil- 
ling to  leave  for  a  moment  the  work  so  much  requiring 
his  attention.  But,  prompted  by  a  sense  of  obligation 
to  the  English  officers  for  their  kindness,  and  receiving 
20  (305) 


306  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

a  promise  from  them  that  they  would  use  every  endeavor 
to  have  inserted  a  clause  allowing  religious  toleration 
in  all  Burmah,  he  consented  to  go.  He  expected  the 
new  missionaries,  "Wade  and  Hough,  to  be  there  by  the 
time  he  returned,  and  then  the  work  could  go  forward 
rapidly. 

His  parting  with  his  wife  was  less  painful  this  time 
than  it  had  ever  been  to  either  before.  Though  about 
to  return  to  the  scene  of  his  former  sufferings,  he  would 
be  under  the  protection  of  powerful  friends  whom  the 
monarch  dare  not  offend ;  and  she,  too,  would  be  sur- 
rounded by  courteous  officers,  who  respected  her  little 
less  than  their  queen  herself. 

It  was  sunset,  and  his  boat  was  waiting  at  the  mouth 
of  the  Salwen,  Mr.  Crawford  already  aboard.  He  took 
an  affectionate  leave  of  all  the  family,  his  wife  accom- 
panying him  as  far  as  the  little  grove,  half  way  to  the 
river,  he  bearing  the  child.  There,  in  the  shade  of  the 
mango  trees,  they  knelt  and  prayed.  Rising,  he  laid 
the  little  one  tenderly  in  her  mother's  arms,  embracing 
them  both. 

"  You  must  write  me  every  week,  Ann,"  he  said. 
"  You  know  how  unpleasant  it  will  be  in  the  presence 
of  the  haughty,  stubborn  king  for  four  or  five  months, 
and  in  sight  of  the  dreadful  Let-ma-yoon,  even  though 
now  safe  from  its  power.  Let  me  know  regularly  of 
your  health  and  the  condition  of  dear  little  Maria. 
Poor  child !  "  he  said  gently  as  he  kissed  her  pure,  white 
lily  cheek,  "  she  is  indeed  a  child  of  sorrow ;  born  in 
grief,  and  nurtured  amid  scenes  of  torture.  But  her 
little  face  is  growing  brighter,  perhaps  she  even  feels 
our  happiness  in  release.     Moung  Ing  will  care  for  you. 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  307 

Do  not  be  anxious  on  my  account  as  I  shall  write  regu- 
larly of  our  progress  at  court.     Good-bye." 

Another  kiss  and  he  was  gone.  Six  months  was  a 
long  time  to  the  waiting  wife,  but  she  would  not  be 
idle,  and  she  resolved  to  surprise  him  on  his  return, 
when  he  should  see  what  had  been  accomplished  in  his 
absence.  Watching  him  till  his  retreating  form  was 
lost  in  the  yet  untrampled  sedge  of  the  river's  border, 
she  turned  and  clasping  the  child  more  closely  on  her 
breast,  went  back  towards  the  tent.  See  her  as  she 
approaches,  beautiful,  even  now,  after  all  her  sufferings. 
The  short,  black  ringlets  are  once  more  beginning  to 
crown  her  head.  True,  the  flush  of  girlhood  has  faded 
from  her  cheeks,  and  they  are  white,  very  white ;  yet 
there  is  an  angelic  sweetness  there ;  and  her  earnest 
dark  eyes  betray  a  depth  of  soul  which  only  the  hand 
of  God  can  give,  made  more  "  perfect  through  suffer- 
ing." Her  step  is  not  so  elastic  as  formerly,  and  that 
form  which  braved  the  heat  of  the  scorching  plains, 
the  taunts  of  heartless  jailers,  bearing  the  burden  of 
the  child  on  her  bosom  while  ministering  to  a  sick  hus- 
band in  prison,  and  facing  the  Burman  Lion  in  his 
golden  den — is  now  slender  and  delicate.  She  seems, 
withal,  a  flower  too  pure,  too  tender  for  earth,  much 
less  a  savage  country,  in  the  jungle  at  that.  Yet  her 
mind  is  filled  with  designs  for  advancing  God's  cause 
among  the  heathen,  and  bravely  she  will  attempt  to 
execute  her  plans. 

In  an  incredibly  short  time  she  and  Moung  Ing  had 
erected  two  bamboo  school-houses.  In  one  of  these 
Moung  Ing  gathered  ten  Burman   children  whom  he 


808  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

undertook  to  instruct,  while  she  made  arrangements  to 
begin  a  female  school  in  the  other,  in  which  she  gath- 
ered the  converts  every  Sunday  morning  for  worship. 

The  next  thing  was  to  have  a  home.  So  she  began 
the  erection  of  a  roomy  dwelling,  sufficiently  large  to 
accommodate  both  her  own  family  and  the  natives  who 
had  come  with  them  from  Rangoon. 

One  room  was  designed  especially  for  Mr.  Judson's 
comfort.  She  arranged  everything  just  as  she  knew, 
from  experience,  he  would  like  it;  the  table,  the  ward- 
robe and  the  study-corner.  Here  she  made  a  window 
fronting  the  river  and  sea,  overshadowed  by  a  large 
tamarind  tree.  While  engaged  in  this  work  of  love, 
Maria's  health  began  to  decline,  and  it  seemed,  in  spite 
of  the  mother's  devoted  watchfulness,  that  the  feeble 
spark  would  be  extinguished.  Mahree  and  the  nurse 
often  besought  her  to  take  more  rest,  assuring  her  that 
they  would  care  for  the  little  one,  but  she  could  only 
be  content  beside  the  cradle.  The  infant  was  more  dear 
to  her  for  the  very  trials  that  had  made  its  life  so  sad, 
and  she  would  spare  no  effort  to  preserve  that  life  in 
hope  of  a  brighter  future.  Her  faithfulness  had  its 
reward,  and  she  soon  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the 
crisis  safely  past,  and  the  child  beginning  to  improve. 
She  now  intrusted  her  to  Mahree  part  of  each  day 
while  she  superintended  the  completion  of  the  house. 

Mr.  Judson  had  heard  from  her  regularly  in  regard 
to  the  child.  His  last  letter  from  her  was  hopeful. 
She  says : 

11 1  have  this  day  moved  into  the  new  house,  and,  for  the 
first  time  since  we  were  broken  up  at  Ava,  feel  myself  at  home. 
The  house  is  large  and  convenient,  and  if  you  were  here  I 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.         309 

should  feel  quite  happy.  Poor  little  Maria  is  still  feeble. 
When  I  ask  her  where  papa  is,  she  always  starts  up  and  points 
toward  the  sea.  The  servants  behave  very  well,  and  I  have 
no  trouble  about  anything  except  you  and  Maria.  May  God 
preserve  and  bless  you  and  restore  you  again  to  your  new  and 
old  home,  is  the  prayer  of  your  affectionate  Ann." 

That  was  the  last  she  ever  wrote.  Comfortably  situ- 
ated now  in  the  new  house,  her  child  saved  through  her 
unwearied  attentions,  the  anxiety  which  had  stimulated 
her  so  far  was  now  removed,  and  she  failed  like  a  run- 
ner who,  forgetting  everything  behind  him,  expires  as 
his  hand  touches  the  goal.  Wakefulness  and  anxiety 
had  undermined  the  frail  constitution,  and  the  old 
fever  of  Oung-pen-la  returned.  She  could  no  longer 
resist  its  ravages,  and  as  she  lay  in  her  room  in  the 
new  house  she  knew  she  could  never  rise  again.  She 
only  wished  now  to  see  her  husband  and  the  new  mis- 
sionaries established  in  the  house  she  had  so  lovingly 
provided.  Even  then  she  did  not  repine.  But  it  was, 
oh !  so  hard  to  leave  little  Maria,  and  no.t  a  parting 
word  to  the  distant  father,  who  never  suspected  her 
sickness.  The  English  officers  were  very  kind  to  show 
every  attention  in  their  power  and  to  provide  anything 
they  had  for  her  comfort.  The  attack  was  violent  and 
her  mind  often  wandered  in  her  delirium.  In  a  day 
or  two  the  friends  knew  all  hope  was  gone.  Moung  Ing 
was  unwearied  in  his  devotions.  He  could  not  bear  the 
thought  of  the  teacher  returning  to  his  home  and  find- 
ing his  loved  one  gone.  All  night  he  and  the  Burmese 
nurse  watched  by  the  sick-bed.  Mahree  and  Abbe,  by 
turns,  nursed  the  child,  or  brought  water  and  medicine 
to  the  nurse ;    and  the  disciples  who  had  come  with 


310         THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

them  from  Rangoon,  Mah-Men-la  and  Mah-Doke,  ren- 
dered loving  assistance. 

She  had  how  been  delirious  for  several  days;  the 
nurse  had  gone  out  to  order  some  broth,  requesting 
Moung  Ing  to  watch  in  her  absence.  He  took  his  place 
by  the  bedside.  On  looking  at  the  sufferer,  he  saw  her 
eyes  fixed  steadfastly  upon  him,  and  that  they  con- 
tained the  light  of  reason,  which  often  returns  just 
before  the  spirit's  departure.  She  spoke.  Bending 
over,  he  heard  her  call  for  Mahree.  He  motioned  to 
the  girl,  who  was  at  a  window  on  the  other  side  rock- 
ing the  cradle.     She  stepped  softly  to  the  bed. 

"What  is  it,  mamma?"  she  asked  gently. 

"  The  little  casket,  Mahree,  in  the  trunk.  Bring  it 
to  me." 

When  it  was  brought,  she^  motioned  Mahree  to  sit 
on  the  bed  beside  her. 

"You  are  now  old  enough,"  she  said,  to  understand 
the  mystery  of  its  contents.  Take  the  little  key  from 
round  your  neck  and  open  it,  that  I  may  see  also." 

Moung  Ing  had  stolen  away  and  was  rocking  the  cra- 
dle, lest  the  child  should  awake  and  disturb  its  mother. 

With  trembling  hands  Mahree  drew  forth  the  little 
key.  Now  she  should  know  the  mystery  of  her  life, 
and  whether  she  should  marry  the  man  she  loved.  The 
lid  flew  open.  Lying  within,  on  a  piece  of  cotton,  was 
a  child's  bracelet,  small  and  beautifully  set — such  as 
she  had  seen  only  on  the  children  of  the  royal  family. 
Within  was  inscribed  the  name 

MANOHARA. 

The  girl  gazed  in  mute  astonishment,  no  nearer  a 
knowledge  of  her  identity  than  before.     Mrs.  Judson 


THE   CHILD   OF   THE   GANGES.  311 

reached  forth  her  hand  and  took  it.  While  she  was 
looking  at  the  inscription,  Mahree  found  a  faded  paper 
in  the  bottom  of  the  box. 

"  See  here,  mamma !  "  she  said  breathlessly. 

Unfolding  it,  they  read : 

"  Taken  from  the  Ganges,  above  Benares,  near  the 
Grove  of  Sorrow,  where  her  mother  had  thrown 
her  to  the  sacred  crocodile.         felix  carey. 

"  March  4th,  1808." 

"Ah !  "  said  Mahree ;  "  now  I  understand  why  I 
feared  the  Irrawaddy,  and  my  dreams  of  the  sea.  But 
what  can  it  mean?  I  am  a  Burman,  and  Burmese 
women  are  not  allowed  to  leave  the  country.  What 
was  my  mother  doing  on  the  Ganges?  Then,  oh,  dread- 
ful deed!  how  could  she  be  so  cruel?  But  even  yet  I 
do  not  know  who  I  am." 

"  There  is  only  this  clue,"  said  Mrs.  Judson,  as  she 
looked  at  the  bracelet.  "Only  the  daughters  of  the 
palace  are  allowed  to  wear  such  spangles  as  this.  You 
are  a  princess,  and  must  have  been  spirited  away  by 
some  envious  person,  who  feared  for  you  to  live,  or  else 
stolen  for  your  beauty  or  because  of  hatred  for  the  king. 
I  confess  I  do  not  understand  it.  Call  Moung  Ing.  He 
has  been  about  the  palace  during  Mr.  Judson's  impri- 
sonment, and  may  be  able  to  judge  something  of  the 
circumstances." 

Mahree  motioned  him  to  come. 

Mrs.  Judson  handed  him  the  bracelet.  A  violent 
tremor  seized  the  strong  man  as  he  took  the  little  relic. 
He  read  the  inscription,  then  eagerly  clasped  the  paper. 
Reading  it,  he  fell  on  his  knees. 


312  THE    CHILD   OF   THE   GANGES. 

" Thank  God  for  this  day!"  he  cried.  "My  child; 
my  own  sweet  Manohara !  I  am  your  father !  "  and  he 
clasped  the  wondering  girl  in  his  arms.  It  was  some 
time  before  he  could  compose  himself  sufficiently  to 
speak.  Then,  drawing  himself  up,  he  looked  Mah-ree 
in  the  face. 

"  The  very  image  of  your  beautiful  mother  the  day  I 
married  her,"  he  said,  "why  had  I  not  seen  it  before?  " 

"  Teacher,"  he  said,  turning  to  her,  "  you  do  not 
understand  it  all,  neither  does  she.  My  name  is  not 
Moung  Ing.  I  am  Mekara,  whom  they  sought  at  the 
death  of  Min-der-a-ge  Praw.  I  was  his  oldest  son,  and 
heir  to  the  throne  of  Burmah.  I  refused  to  worship 
Buddha  and  he  drove  me  from  the  country.  With  my 
wife  and  child  I  went  to  India.  While  in  the  woods  a 
Brahmin  told  me  that  my  poor  wife  had  thrown  herself 
and  child  into  the  Ganges.  I  have  since  mourned  them 
as  dead.  My  child  is  found,  and  this  paper  leads  me  to 
hope  her  mother  may  yet  be  living.  God  grant  it  may 
be  so !  " 

"  Let  us  bless  Hirn  for  His  goodness  and  praise  him 
for  his  mercies  so  far,"  said  the  sick  woman  fervently. 
"  I  bless  you  both,  my  children." 

Moung  Ing  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"  A  light  dawns  upon  me  !  "  he  cried.  "Call  the  nurse, 
Manohara ;  call  the  nurse  quickly !  " 

Filled  with  astonishment,  and  trying  to  conjecture 
what  further  developments  awaited,  she  rushed  out  of 
the  room.  When  she  had  gone,  Mekara  sat  down, 
though  so  much  agitated  he  could  not  be  still.  . 

"  Teacher,"  he  said,  "  do  you  not  remember,  I  asked 
you  once  if  you  had  ever  traced  any  resemblance  in  the 


THE   CHILD   OF    THE    GANGES.  313 

face  of  your  nurse  to  Mahree,  and  requested  you  to  ask 
her  if  she  ever  had  a  child  ?     What  was  her  reply?  " 

Now  a  new  light  gleamed  in  the  eyes  of  the  dying 
woman. 

"  Now  I  understand  her  strange  behavior,"  she  replied. 
"  Yes,  I  asked  her,  and  it  agitated  her  greatly.  She 
acknowledged  she  had  once  had  a  child,  but  begged  me 
not  to  inquire  further,  and  she  would  tell  me  all  some 
day.  Now  I  recall  the  time  I  met  her  in  Serampore, 
and  the  sad  story  she  told  me  there.  But  she  is  coming ; 
let  us  see  further." 

Manohara,  girl-like,  could  not  keep  the  secret,  but 
breaking  into  the  kitchen  she  excitedly  told  the  story 
of  the  golden  bracelet  to  the  nurse,  who  threw  down  her 
pan  at  the  mention  of  the  name  Manohara,  and  clasped 
the  now  doubly-astonished  maiden  wildly  about  the 
neck.  Then  taking  her  hand,  without  a  word  of  expla- 
nation, broke  with  her  to  the  sick-room. 

"  Teacher !  "  she  cried,  drawing  something  from  her 
bosom,  "  Mekara !  I  am  Mahdri.  See  the  companion  to 
the  little  bracelet !  n  and  she  held  it  up. 

With  one  bound  Mekara  had  them  both  in  his  arms, 
and  a  happier  trio  never  was  seen. 

Suddenly  Manohara  exclaimed : 

"Look,  papa,  mamma!  my  poor,  dear  white  mamma 
is  dying.     We  have  excited  her  too  much !  " 

They  turned  to  the  bed.  It  was,  indeed,  too  true. 
The  excitement  had  again  thrown  her  into  delirium. 
She  lay  on  one  side  staring  with  vacant  eyes  and  talk- 
ing incoherently  to  herself.  Mahdri  hastened  to  bring 
the  broth,  and  Mekara  applied  all  the  restoratives  at 
his  command,  but  seemingly  without  avail.     She  was 


314  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

sinking  rapidly.  In  a  few  moments  Mahdri  returned, 
followed  by  the  other  members  of  the  household.  The 
sufferer  lay  moaning  with  pain  and  burning  with  fever. 
Once  the  light  shone  in  her  eyes.  A  faint  smile  stole 
over  her  face  as  she  looked  upon  her  tender  nurses. 

"  All  is  well."  she  said  feebly.  M  I  am  glad  I  see  my 
beloved  Mahree  united  to  her  father  and  mother,  and 
to  think  they  are  the  ones  who  have  been  so  faithful  to 
me.  May  you  be  happy.  I  wish  I  could  be  with  you 
longer  to  enjoy  your  happy  meeting,  but  it  is  not  the 
will  of  Him  who  calls  me.  May  we  meet  again  where 
there  will  be  no  more  rude  parting.'' 

Again  unconsciousness,  and  they  thought  all  was  over. 
But  no;  in  her  wanderings  she  is  heard  to  whisper: 

"  Oh,  the  teacher  is  long  in  coming.  The  new  mis- 
sionaries are  long  in  coming.  I  must  die  alone  and 
leave  my  little  one.  Tell  the  teacher  the  disease  was 
most  violent.  Tell  him  I  could  not  write.  Tell  him 
how  I  suffered  and  died.    Tell  him  all  you  see." 

Her  voice  sank  to  the  faintest  breathing.  The  rattle 
was  heard  in  her  throat ;  her  eyes  closed  wearily,  and 
she  seemed  insensible  to  all  earthly  objects.  The 
women  were  weeping.  Poor  Mahree  and  Abbe  sobbed 
bitterly.  She  had  done  so  much  for  them,  and  they 
loved  her  so.  Now  another  mourner  breaks  in.  From 
the  neglected  cradle  comes  a  faint  cry.  The  mother's 
eyes  open  anxiously ;  her  lips  struggle  to  speak,  and 
she  feebly  motions  her  hand  in  the  direction  of  the 
cradle.  Mahree  understands,  and  brings  the  little  one, 
laying  her  by  her  mother's  side.  The  mother's  hand 
creeps  softly  over  the  little  form. 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  6lb 

u  Mahree,"  she  whispered,  u  be  kind  to  my  darling 
Maria — indulge  her  in  everything  till  her  father  comes 
home — precious,  precious  baby  !  n 

Again  the  lethargy.  Mahdri  stoops  and  whispers  to 
her.  Again  her  lips  open  and  she  speaks  her  last  words 
on  earth :  "  I  am  quite  well,  only  weak.*'  A  brief 
interval  of  heavy  breathing — an  exclamation,  "  Amai- 
ai!"  in  the  Burmese  language,  and  all  is  over. 

".She  made  a  sign 
To  bring  her  babe — 'twas  brought  and  by  her  placed. 
8he  looked  upon  its  face    ...    and  laid 
Her  hand  upon  its  little  breast,  and  sought 
For  it  with  look  that  seemed  to  penetrate 

The  heavens 

4  God  keep  my  child! '  we  heard  her  say  and  heard 

No  more  ;  the  Angel  of  the  Covenant 

Was  come,  and  faithful  to  his  promise,  stood 

Prepared  to  walk  with  her  through  death's  dark  vale." 


CHAPTER  II. 

"  He  comes  ^  he  comes  I 
The  wearied  man  of  God,  from  distant  toil. 
His  home,  while  yet  it  seems  a  misty  speck, 
His  glance  descries,— half-wandering  that  the  step 
Of  his  beloved  glides  not  o'er  the  heath, 
As  wont  to  meet  him. 

"Ah  I  what  heathen  lip, 
In  its  strange  language,  told  him,  that  on  earth 
Nothing  remain'd  which  to  his  throbbing  heart 
In  that  hour's  desolation  he  might  press, 
Save  that  poor,  famish'd  infant.    Days  of  care 
Were  measur'd  to  him,  and  long  nights  of  grief 
Weigh'd  out,— and  then  that  little  moaning  one 
Went  to  its  mother's  bosom,  and  slept  sweet 
'Neath  the  cool  branches  of  the  Hopia  tree." 

—Mrs.  Sigourney. 

A  company  of  British  soldiers,  and  many  natives,  stood 
with  bared  heads  beneath  the  shade  the  Hopia  tree,  while 
Burmah's  soil  closed  over  the  body  of  her  first  Christian 
martyr.  Mekara  conducted  the  funeral  in  a  very 
impressive  manner.  The  grave  was  closed,  a  "  small 
rude  fence  "  placed  around  "  to  prevent  it  from  incau- 
tious intrusion,"  and  all  departed  in  silence  and  in  sad- 
ness. 

The  officers  conferred  together  as  to  the  best  means  of 
informing  the  bereaved  husband  of  his  unexpected  loss. 
Captain  Fenwick  wrote  as  follows  to  a  friend  in  Ran- 
goon: 

"  I  trust  you  will  be  able  to  find  means  to  inform  our  friend 
of  the  dreadful  loss  he  has  suffered. 

(316) 


THE  CHILD   OF  THE   GANGES.  317 

"  I  shall  not  attempt  to  give  you  an  account  of  the  gloom 
which  the  death  of  this  most  amiable  woman  has  thrown 
over  our  small  society.  You,  who  were  so  well  acquainted  with 
her,  must  feel  her  loss  more  deeply  ;  but  we  had  just  known 
her  long  enough  to  value  her  acquaintance  as  a  blessing  to  this 
remote  corner.  I  dread  the  effect  it  will  have  on  poor  Judson.  I 
am  sure  you  will  take  every  care  that  this  mournful  intelligence 
may  be  opened  to  him  as  carefully  as  possible." 

Worn  out  with  the  vexatious  affairs  of  a  haughty 
court,  and  the  obstinacy  of  the  proud  young  monarch, 
Mr.  Judson  was  longing  for  the  quietude  of  his  own 
new  home  in  the  yet  wooded  city.  It  seemed  that  the 
time  spent  at  the  capital  had  been  wholly  lost,  for  the 
king  obstinately  refused  to  grant  religious  toleration  to 
his  subjects.  Then  it  seemed  that  only  once  a  week 
was  not  often  enough  to  hear  from  home.  It  has  been 
now  more  than  a  week,  and  Ann  has  not  written.  He 
is  growing  impatient.  But  then  her  last  letter  was 
cheering  and  all  must  be  well.  She  is  only  too  busy  to 
write.  With  such  reflections  he  sought  to  console  him- 
self. Ah,  there  comes  a  friend  with  a  letter ;  now  he 
will  hear  from  home.  But  the  man's  Countenance  is 
sad  and  as  he  hands  the  letter  to  Mr.  Judson,  with  the 
black  seal  upon  its  back,  he  kindly  seeks  to  prepare  him 
for  the  distressing  news  it  contains,  by  saying : 

"  I  am  sorry  to  inform  you  of  the  death  of  your  child. " 
Then  it  has  come  to  the  worst.  The  poor  little  suf- 
ferer has  at  last  been  relieved  from  her  life  of  pain.  It 
is  hard  to  bear,  to  think  her  father  should  be  away. 
But  God  knows  best.  His  will  be  done.  Sadly  he 
breaks  the  seal  to  learn  the  particulars.  He  reads  a 
few  lines.     A  horror  of  great  darkness  comes  over  him 


318  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

Can  it  be  possible  he  lias  been  deceived?    Again  be 
reads  the  dreadful  words : 

"  My  Dear  Sir  :— To  one  who  has  suffered  so  much  and  with 
such  exemplary  fortitude,  there  needs  but  little  preface  to  tell 
a  tale  of  distress.  It  were  cruel  indeed  to  torture  you  with 
doubt  and  suspense.  To  sum  up  the  unhappy  tidings  in  a  few 
words,  Mrs.  Judson  is  no  more.''1 

He  staggered  as  if  be  would  fall.  The  Englishman 
took  him  by  the  arm  and  kindly  led  him  to  a  seat^  then 
left  him  to  bear  his  grief  alone  with  God. 

"  Ann  dead  !  "  he  cried  ;  "  gentle,  patient,  self-sacrific- 
ing Ann.  Can  she  be  dead?  0,  God!  help  me  to  bear 
this  unexpected  stroke." 

Again  there  came  visions  of  the  past.  The  cool 
streams,  shady  dells,  and  wooded  hills  of  New  England 
rise  up  before  him.  Again  the  youthful  pair  in  love's 
sweet  bondage  united  ;  then  desolate  rovings  from  shore 
to  shore;  death  of  Harriet,  and  burial  of  little  Roger; 
preaching,  persecution,  imprisonment;  gloom  and  terror 
of  the  Let-ma-yoon,  the  unshrinking  hand;  a  voice 
like  music  without,  and  a  face  like  sunshine  at  the  little 
door;  the  first  sight  of  the  puny  babe;  the  blood- 
tracked  march ;  the  ministering  angel  of  Oung-pen-la, 
she  who  had  borne  with  him  every  grief,  and  who  was 
the  source  of  his  every  earthly  joy;  all  come  before 
him.  Then,  like  a  fast  fading  sunset-picture,  he  views 
the  future  that  he  had  planned  with  her.  Then  it 
seemed  glorious,  now  dark  and  uninviting.  And  it  is 
yet  four  months  ere  he  can  behold  the  face  of  his  little 
one,  the  only  tie  that  now  binds  him  to  earth. 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  31V 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wade  arrived  at  Amherst  about  two 
months  after  the  death  of  Mrs.  Judson,  and  took  charge 
of  the  mission.  One  evening,  six  weeks  later,  Mr. 
Wade  was  sitting  at  the  window,  his  wife  on  the 
veranda  with  Maria.  He  saw  a  boat  enter  the  harbor. 
"It  is  Brother  Judson!"  he  exclaimed,  and  rushed 
down  to  the  bank  to  meet  him.  With  hearts  too  full 
for  utterance  the  men  grasped  hands  on  the  shore,  after 
so  long  a  separation  and  under  such  trying  circum- 
stances. Scarcely  a  word  was  spoken  as  they  walked, 
arm  in  arm,  up  the  path  toward  the  house,  the  "  old 
and  new  home"  which  Ann  had  built.  Mekara  met 
them  under  the  mango  trees,  then  came  Mahdri  and 
Manohara,  weeping  as  they  saw  the  lone  widower.  On 
the  porch  he  shook  hands  writh  Mrs.  Wade,  who  held 
his  child,  then  started  to  take  the  little  one  in  his 
arms.  But  she  had  long  since  forgotten  him,  and 
turned  away  with  a  cry  of  alarm,  hiding  her  face  on 
Mrs.  Wade's  breast.  With  a  bursting  heart  he  turned 
away.  No  one  offered  to  follow,  for  he  went  toward 
the  Hopia  tree.  On  his  knees  in  the  long  grass  by  the 
head-stone  he  prayed  and  wept.  Then  he  stood  under 
the  mangoes  where  they  had  parted.  Night  came  on, 
and  yet  the  lone  mourner  wrestled  with  his  grief,  seek- 
ing to  reconcile  himself  to  the  will  of  God. 

The  next  evening  when  the  mission  family  had  gath- 
ered together,  Mr.  Judson  heard  in  full  the  story  of 
the  happiness  that  had  come  to  his  faithful  friends  and 
adopted  daughter.  It  in  some  measure  relieved  him  of 
his  own  heavy  burden  to  see  them  so  happy. 


oZU  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

After  Mekara  and  Mahdri  had  each  told  their  story, 
Manohara  asked  her  mother  if  she  knew  what  became 
of  Asita.  "  Surely,"  thought  she,  "  something  evil  must 
have  happened  to  him  for  so  much  wickedness." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Mahdri,  "  there  is  a  link  of  my  story 
left  out.  Several  months  after  my  conversion  I  returned 
to  the  Grove  of  Sorrow  with  Krishna  Pal.  The  tracts 
he  had  circulated  in  the  village  had  led  several  to  a 
serious  consideration  of  the  Christian  religion.  Old 
Asita  himself  stumbled  upon  one  on  his  way,  one 
morning,  to  the  mountain  shrine.  He  read  it  and  threw 
it  down  in  disgust.  But  the  Spirit  of  God  wrought  on 
him  all  the  way  to  the  little  temple,  and  he  became  so 
much  interested  that  he  sought  for  the  tract  again  on 
his  return,  and  carried  it  with  him  to  the  forest.  When 
we  found  him,  six  months  later,  he  had  given  up  his 
visits  to  the  shrine,  the  devotees  were  compelled  to 
shift  for  themselves,  and  he  was  earnestly  praying  for 
light.  He  was  somewhat  abashed  and  surprised  to  see 
me  yet  alive,  but  when  Krishna  opened  to  him  the  way 
of  salvation  he  eagerly  embraced  Christ,  and  was  bap- 
tized in  the  very  spot  where  he  had  persuaded  me  to 
throw  my  precious  child.  We  both  prayed  forgiveness 
of  God  for  that  murder,  but  I  could  never  forgive 
myself,  and  it  almost  killed  me  when  the  teacher  asked 
me  one  day,  in  Rangoon,  if  I  had  ever  had  a  child. 

"  Asita  then  told  me  that  my  husband  was  not  dead, 
as  he  had  falsely  reported,  but  had  gone  up  the  river. 
He  sought  to  atone  for  the  mischief  he  had  done  by 
going  with  me  up  the  river  in  search  of  my  husband, 
leaving  Krishna  to  preach  to  the  ascetics.  We  pene- 
trated to  Hudwar,  at  the  feet  of  the  Himalayas,  but 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  321 

could  find  no  trace.  I  determined  that  I  tvould  never 
despair  of  finding  him,  but  would  pray,  labor,  and  wait 
till  God's  good  time.  When  we  returned,  the  Grove  of 
Sorrow  had  been  converted  into  a  temple  of  rejoicing. 
And  wailing  devotees  were  now  lifting  renewed  souls  to 
God  in  those  sweet  words  of  Krishna  that  first  attracted 
me — 

1  O  thou,  my  soul,  forget  no  more, 
The  Friend  who  all  thy  sorrows  bore ! ' 

"Oh!  the  power  of  God  is  wonderful,  wonderful! 
and  his  goodness  beyond  all  comprehension !  " 

The  whole  company  sat  in  mute  thanksgiving  as 
Mahdri  concluded  her  narrative.  But  there  were  other 
things  Manohara  wished  to  have  explained.  Turning 
to  Mekara,  she  asked : 

"  Papa,  why  do  you  not  claim  your  crown?  The  peo- 
ple love  you,  and  would  gladly  place  you  on  the  throne 
if  you  would  only  make  yourself  known. " 

"  Why  should  I,  my  child?  Where,  in  all  the  world\ 
is  there  a  monarch  now  so  happy  as  I?  I  would  rather 
be  a  door-keeper  in  the  house  of  the  Lord  than  to  dwell 
in  the  tents  of  wickedness.  No,  if  my  haughty  nephew 
can  derive  any  pleasure  frojn  my  inheritance,  he  is 
welcome.  I  shall  be  a  private  soldier  of  the  Cross,  and 
devote  my  life  to  the  service  of  the  King  of  kings.  I 
told  my  poor,  down-trodden  people  when  I  left  them 
that  when  the  light  was  found  I  would  bring  it  to  them, 
I  would  rather  bring  them  as  sheaves  to  my  Master's 
feet  than  have  them  bow  servile  necks  to  me,  and  ren- 
der that  fear  and  allegiance  which  only  to  God  is  due* 
I  shall  go  soon  to  Tavoy,  where  I  made  many  friends 
21 


322  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

while  living  a  fisherman's  life.  There  I  will  tell  the 
'  Old,  old  Story '  of  the  Cross,  but  tell  it  as  a  fisherman 
among  men.  My  own  story  must  never  be  told  beyond 
this  little  circle.  I  am  still  Moung  Ing,  and  never  wish 
to  be  called  by  any  other  name." 

It  was  now  growing  late,  and  the  family  retired  to 
rest. 

Mr.  Judson  could  not  rest  from  his  labors.  Gather- 
ing around  him  his  books  and  papers,  he  once  more 
busied  himself  in  the  translation  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment. Maria  had,  at  last,  consented  to  make  his 
acquaintance,  and  often  beguiled  his  sadness  while  in 
his  lonely  room.  She  was  all  that  was  left  to  him  now, 
and  tenderly  did  he  bind  her  to  his  heart  as  a  balm  to 
the  wound  of  her  mother's  loss.  But  even  this  was 
soon  denied  him.  Day  by  day  he  saw  her  fading  like 
a  flower  plucked  from  its  parent  stem.  Then  once  more 
the  soft  tread,  whispering  voices,  and  mournful  faces. 
Little  Maria  sleeps  again  on  her  mother's  bosom. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boardman  arrived  the  same  day  to 
strengthen  the  missionary  force.  Mr.  Boardman  con- 
structed the  little  coffin,  another  grave  was  opened 
beneath  the  Hopia  tree,  and  the  curtain  closes  over  the 
last  act  of  the  sad  tragedy  of  Amherst. 


CHAPTER   III. 

"  Take  my  free  gift,  my  cousin,  for  your  wife ; 
And  were  it  only  for  the  giver's  sake, 
And  tho'  she  seems  so  like  the  one  you  lost, 
Yet,  cast  her  not  away  so  suddenly, 
Lest  there  be  none  left  here  to  bring  her  back ; 
I  leave  this  land  forever." 

—Tennyson. 

The  mission  at  Amherst  is  now  to  be  abandoned. 
There  had  been  a  misunderstanding  between  Mr.  Craw- 
ford and  Sir  Archibald  Campbell,  the  latter  of  whom 
had  selected  a  site  for  the  capital  at  Maulmain,  twenty- 
five  miles  further  north  on  the  coast.  Here  he  had 
established  the  royal  troops,  and  thousands  were  flock- 
ing thither  in  preference  to  Amherst.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Boardman  removed  to  that  place  in  a  few  days,  while 
Mr.  Judson  prepared  to  remove  the  effects  of  the  house- 
hold as  soon  as  possible.  He  still  held  public  worship, 
however,  and  with  the  assistance  of  Moung  Ing  taught 
all  who  came  to  him. 

"One  day  Moung  Schwa-ba,  the  native  Christian  who 
had  accompanied  him  from  Rangoon,  entered,  followed 
by  a  Karen. 

"  Teacher,"  he  said,  "  here  is  a  poor  Karen  who  was 
formerly  my  servant  in  Rangoon.  His  people  are 
despised  and  reviled  by  the  Burmans,  but  he  had  heard 
of  Christ  and  seeks  knowledge.  I  told  him  I  thought 
the  gospel  was  intended  for  the  low  and  vile,  as  well  aa 
the  rich  and  proud.     I  found  him  by  accident,  he  hav- 

(323) 


324         THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

ing  come  to  Amherst  merely  through  curiosity.  Will 
you  instruct  him?  " 

"  Gladly,  my  brother,"  said  Mr.  Judson,  and  taking 
the  timid  inquirer  by  the  hand,  he  sat  down  beside  him 
and  inquired  to  see  if  he  had  any  conception  of  a  God. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Karen,  "  my  people  all  believe  in  one 
God,  but  I  never  but  once  heard  his  name  mentioned 
by  Burman  lips.  I  rowed  the  boat  in  which  Prince 
Mekara  left  the  kingdom,  and  he  told  me  of  his  belief 
in  a  God.  We  know  nothing  definite.  We  have  been 
waiting  for  the  coming  of  the  white  foreigner  with  the 
Holy  Book.  Are  you  the  one  who  was  to  come,  and 
have  you  the  Book  of  God?  " 

Mr.  Judson  was  surprised,  and  rejoiced  at  what  he 
heard.  He  then  explained  the  nature  of  God  to  him, 
told  him  of  Christ  and  the  atonement  for  sin.  But  the 
latter  was  a  new  thought  to  him,  and  his  mind  could 
not  comprehend  it.  In  a  God  he  believed,  but  who  is 
this  Christ?  Mr.  Judson  talked  with  him  long  and 
earnestly,  and  when  he  arose  to  go  gave  him  some 
tracts,  with  part  of  the  Bible  to  read,  inviting  him  to 
come  again  on  the  morrow. 

As  he  went  out  the  door  Mr.  Judson  called  him  back 
and  inquired : 

"  Did  you  not  say  you  saw  the  prince  when  he  was 
leaving  Burmah?  " 

"  I  was  with  him,  teacner." 

"  Will  you  promise  to  keep  a  secret?  " 

"  I  will." 

"  Mekara  found  God,  and  is  now  in  this  house." 

"  Prince  Mekara  here !  "  he  said,  with  more  anima- 
tion than  he  had  before  shown.     "  May  I  see  him?  " 


THE   CHILD    OF   THE   GANGES.  325 

Mr.  Judson  stepped  out  of  the  room,  and  in  a  few 
moments  Moung  Ing  entered.  As  soon  as  he  saw  the 
Karen  he  clasped  his  hand  warmly. 

"It  is  my  old  friend  Ko  Tha-Byu,"  he  exclaimed. 
"  Where  have  you  been  all  these  long  years?  " 

"  Wandering  about,  my  lord,  driven  from  post  to  post, 
waiting,  with  my  brethren,  the  coming  of  the  white  man." 

"  Now,"  said  Moung  Ing,  "  the  white  man  has  come. 
Do  you  accept  his  religion?  " 

"  His  doctrine  of  a  God  I  believe,  but  I  cannot  under- 
stand the  atonement  of  Christ.  He  gave  me  some  lit- 
tle books  to  read.     I  shall  still  seek  for  light." 

Moung  Ing  then  gave  him  a  lengthy  account  of  his 
own  experience  in  obtaining  salvation,  and  before  he 
was  through,  the  dull  mind  of  the  Karen  began  to  grasp 
the  truth. 

"  I  see  it  better,"  he  said. 

Moung  Ing  forbore  to  press  the  matter  rashly,  but 
told  him  to  read  the  books  and  return  every  day  for 
instruction.  This  he  promised  to  do ;  and  before  the 
missionaries  left  Amherst  they  had  satisfactory  evi- 
dence that  the  grace  of  God  was  manifest  to  him. 

All  things  were  now  ready  for  the  departure  to  Maul- 
main.  Manohara  had  been  busily  engaged  the  whole 
day  in  packing  the  plunder  for  exportation .  After 
sunset  she  walked  out  on  the  bank  of  the  river  to 
enjoy  the  cool  air.  As  it  was  growing  late,  she  turned 
her  steps  back  toward  the  house.  Coming  through  the 
shrubbery  into  the  path,  she  suddenly  confronted  a 
man  coming  fronN  the  direction  of  the  river.  It  was 
Robert  Stuart. 


326  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

"Mahree!"  he  cried,  joyfully;  "now  you  can  greet 
me  in  the  way  I  desired.     I  have  come  for  my  wife." 

She  held  him  off,  as  if  not  much  concerned  to  see  him. 

"Have  you  been  successful  in  your  search?"  she 
asked,  simply. 

"  I  have.  I  found  Mr.  Carey  himself,  who  told  me 
the  contents  of  the  casket.  He  rescued  you  from  the 
Ganges  just  after  your  mother  had  thrown  you  into  the 
water  as  a  sacrifice.  The  little  box  contains  a  brace- 
let, which  he  took  from  your  arm,  inscribed  with  your 
name,  '  Manohara.'     Now,  have  I  not  won  my  prize?  " 

"  Not  yet,"  she  said. 

"What  is  now  lacking?" 

"  The  success  of  which  you  speak  is  not  satisfactory. 
It  leaves  me  as  much  a  waif  as  ever — even  more  so. 
How  do  I  know  who  my  parents  were,  and  the  design 
of  my  mother  in  throwing  me  into  the  water?  It  is  a 
very  interesting  story;  but  I  cannot  marry  with  simply 
the  name  '  Manohara.'  I  must  know  something  of  my 
parentage.  I  tell  you  now  plainly,  and  once  for  all, 
unless  you  see  my  father  and  mother  face  to  face,  and 
obtain  their  consent,  or  ascertain  that  they  are  not  liv- 
ing, I  shall  never  be  your  wife.     That  is  fixed." 

"Mahree,"he  said,  reproachfully,  "you  are  a  hard 
task-mistress.  You  exact  entirely  too  much.  If  your 
parents  are  living,  what  right  have  they  to  command 
you,  after  having  so  mercilessly  discarded  you  in 
infancy  ?  And  if  dead,  what  pleasure  will  it  be  to 
learn  it?  Come;  be  reasonable,  and  say  I  have  done 
enough." 

"  You  have  heard  my  terms,"  she  said.  "  I  shall  revoke 
nothing  I  have  said." 


THE   CHILD    OF    THE   GANGES.  327 

By  this  time  they  had  approached  the  door  of  the 
veranda.  Robert  thought  he  had  detected  a  slight 
spirit  of  fun  in  her  manner,  which  he  could  not  explain. 
Laying  his  hand  on  her  arm,  he  detained  her  for  a 
moment  before  entering  the  house.  There  was  a  deep 
seriousness  in  his  eyes  as  he  asked  earnestly : 

"  Mahree,  do  you  love  me  in  reality?  " 

"  I  do,"  she  said ;  "  devotedly." 

"Then  why  will  you  not  marry  me?" 

"  I  will." 

"When?"  he  asked,  hopefully  and  eagerly. 

"  When  you  have  complied  with  the  conditions,"  she 
said  saucily. 

"  I  fear  that  will  never  be,"  he  answered,  with  an 
expression  of  despair. 

"  Don't  be  so  easily  discouraged,"  she  said.  "  Come 
in,  and  we  will  further  discuss  the  matter." 

The  whole  of  the  mission  family  was  seated  in  the 
room,  Moung  Ing  and  his  wife  nearest  the  door.  They 
all  arose  courteously  as  the  young  officer  entered. 

"  Captain  Stuart,"  said  Mahree,  at  his  side,  "  allow 
me  to  introduce  to  you  my  father,  Prince  Mekara,  the 
eldest  son  of  the  great  Min-der-a-ge  Praw :  and  this  is 
his  wife,  Princess  Mahdri,  my  mother." 

The  young  man  was  thunder-struck,  and  so  confused 
that  he  was  speechless.  Seeing  his  embarrassment, 
Mahree  turned,  and,  burying  her  face  in  her  hands, 
burst  into  uncontrollable  laughter.  Even  the  older 
members  partook  of  her  merriment. 

"You  naughty  girl !  "  he  cried;  and  seizing  her  in 
his  arms  before  the  whole  company,  he  raised  her  head 
and,  in  spite  of  her  protests,  kissed  her  a  half  dozen 
times  in  succession. 


328  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

Struggling  vigorously,  she  escaped  his  grasp,  and 
looking  at  him  with  an  expression  of  abashed  pleasure 
mingled  with  assumed  anger,  she  exclaimed : 

"How  dare  you,  sir?"  and  rushed  from  the  room, 
followed  by  Mahdri,  who  enjoyed  immensely  the  turn 
affairs  had  taken. 

Of  course,  the  imaginative  reader  has  already  guessed 
the  conclusion  to  this  little  drama.  Suffice  it  to  say 
that  before  the  missionaries  embarked  for  Maulmain, 
Robert  Stuart  and  Manohara  were  united  in  marriage. 
Mr.  Judson  pronounced  the  solemn,  impressive  words 
that  bound  them  together  as  one.  On  the  next  day 
they  sailed  for  Calcutta,  where  Robert's  command  had 
been  ordered,  going  by  the  way  of  Rangoon.  As  they 
were  to  lie  at  anchor  here  till  evening,  Robert  said  he 
must  call  on  his  friend  Havelock,  and  insisted  that  his 
bride  should  accompany  him  to  the  camp.  Hoisting  a 
large  umbrella  to  protect  them  from  the  heat,  they 
passed  through  the  city  and  out  into  Pagoda  street. 

"Why,  Robert,"  said  Manohara,  "we  are  going  wrong. 
This  is  the  way  I  always  saw  the  worshipers  go  to  the 
great  golden  pagoda.  There  cannot  possibly  be  any- 
thing else  out  here." 

"  Perhaps  I  have  been  here  since  you  have,  my  dear," 
he  replied.  "  Just  be  patient  and  we  will  be  in  camp 
in  a  few  moments." 

The  magnificent  form  of  the  Shway-da-gong  lifted  its 
mountain-like  mass,  with  its  golden  sides  glittering 
before  them.  They  entered  the  gorgeous  enclosure,  its 
brilliancy  painful  to  the  sight  in  the  full  blaze  of  the 
afternoon  sun.  All  was  still  as  death.  Not  a  breath 
stirred  the  listless  bells.  The  great  gongs,  for  once, 
were  silent. 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  329 

The  chaplets  of  flowers  withered  about  the  necks  of 
their  grinning  idols.  They  passed  around  to  the  north- 
ern side,  where  the  great  shadow  covered  one  of  the 
idol  temples.  A  sound  of  singing  came  from  within. 
They  stole  softly  into  the  vestibule  and  waited.  There 
was  a  strange  sight  for  Rangoon.  A  company  of  sol- 
diers sat  within,  silent  and  attentive.  At  the  farther 
end  stood  Lieutenant  Henry  Havelock,  preaching  the 
Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ.  His  bible  and  hymn  book  lay, 
with  his  sword,  on  the  stand  before  him.  But  the  sur- 
roundings were  remarkable.  Every  niche  was  filled, 
and  the  walls  covered  with  images  of  Gautama,  their 
legs  crossed  complacently,  their  hands  resting  tranquilly 
on  their  laps  and  their  lips  smiling  approvingly  on  the 
scene.  The  temple  had  no  windows,  and  the  shade  of 
the  pagoda  cut  off  the  sunlight  from  the  door.  They 
had  hit  upon  a  novel  plan  for  lighting  the  interior. 
Bringing  lamps  and  lighting  them,  they  set  them  in 
the  laps  of  the  idols  to  hold  for  them  while  they 
engaged  in  their  worship.  "  At  last  these  smiling 
images  of  '  The  light  of  Asia '  had  reached  their  highest 
destiny."  They  contributed,  in  a  small  measure,  to  the 
kindling  of  that  flame  whose  radiance  reflects  the  Light 
of  the  World. 

The  young  lieutenant  is  now  thus  beginning  that  bril- 
liant career  which  is  destined  to  work  a  mighty  revolu- 
tion in  the  civil  and  religious  condition  of  all  India. 
When  the  darkness  of  Hindu  superstition  shall  begin 
to  fade,  he  shall  glow  as  a  star  of  the  first  magnitude  in 
the  zenith,  to  be  eclipsed  only  by  the  appearing  of  the 
Sun  of  Righteousness. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"  It  was  not  like  the  bunch 
Of  bitter  palms  on  which  he  learn'd  to  read 
Its  letters  were  more  nice,  its  texture  fair, 
Its  words— he  Avonder'd  as  he  look'd  on  them. 
There  was  some  holy  love  he  never  knew  ; 
There  was  a  spirit  breathing  in  each  line ; 
He  felt  unutterable  thoughts,  as  now 
He  scan'd  the  whole,  now  read  each  wondrous  word. 
It  told  of  God,  the  Maker,  and  of  Him 
Who  died  for  man's  salvation." 

— Anon.  ' 

Messrs.  Judson  and  Wade  having  now  settled  at 
Maulroain,  Mr.  Boardman,  becoming  much  interested 
in  the  Karens  through  the  new  convert,  Ko  Tha-Byu, 
decided  to  go  in  company  with  the  latter,  and  establish 
a  mission  at  Tavoy.  Here  Ko  Tha-Byu  was  baptized 
and  acting  as  interpreter  to  Mr.  Boardman,  they  began 
work  with  the  most  nattering  prospects.  The  Karens 
of  the  surrounding  villages  flocked  in  great  crowds  to 
the  zayat  to  learn  of  God,  and  to  hear  read  the  Book 
which  the  "white  man  from  the  West"  had  brought. 

In  one  of  the  neighboring  villages  lived  a  Karen 
prophet  who  had  been  gathering  the  people  together  for 
several  years,  and  predicting  the  coming  of  the  "white 
man  with  the  Book  of  God,"  and  urging  them  to  pray 
for  his  coming.  The  Burmans,  who  were,  of  course, 
unfavorable  to  the  invasion  of  foreigners,  persecuted  the 
old  man  for  his  prophecies,  and  threw  him  into  prison. 
While  here  he  met  with  an  English  officer  who  gave 
him  a  little  book  and  exhorted  him  to  read  and  follow 

(330) 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  331 

its  precepts.  But  it  was  written  in  English  and  could 
not  be  read  by  the  old  man.  Accordingly  on  his  release, 
he  buried  it  in  the  ground  to  keep  it  safe,  and  clothing 
himself  in  a  yellow  robe  after  the  manner  of  a  Buddhist 
priest,  with  staff  in  hand,  he  assumed  charge  of  the 
sacred  relic  till  some  one  should  explain  its  contents. 
All  the  natives  knew  of  the  wonderful  book  left  by  a 
white  man,  and  were  anxious  to  have  it  interpreted. 
Hearing  of  Mr.  Boardman's  residence  in  Tavoy,  several, 
in  company  with  the  self-elected  priest,  visited  the 
zayat. 

"  Teacher,"  said  the  prophet,  "  there  has  long  been  a 
belief  among  our  people  that  the  Book  of  God  should 
be  restored  to  us  by  a  white  man  from  the  West.  Such 
a  man  left  a  book  in  my  tent.     Is  it  the  Book  of  God?" 

"  I  cannot  tell,"  replied  Mr.  Boardman,  "  till  I  see  the 
book.     Go  bring  it  hither." 

He  hastily  departed  to  the  village  and  dug  up  the  book, 
returning  with  it  in  a  short  time.  It  was  covered  with 
a  coat  of  pitch  to  protect  it  from  moisture.  This  being 
removed,  several  folds  of  fine  linen  were  found,  enclos- 
ing a  much  worn  prayer-book,  with  a  few  of  the  Psalms 
attached. 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Boardman,  "  this  is  not  the  Book  of 
God,  but  it  is  a  good  book  and  tells  of  him.  I  have 
brought  with  me  the  true  Book." 

He  then  produced  a  copy  of  the  Bible  and  read  a  few 
passages. 

The  old  prophet  threw  off  his  robe  and  laid  aside  his 
staff. 

"  My  office  is  at  an  end,"  he  said.  "The  Book  of  God  has 
been  found  and  our  long  waiting  is  over.  Let  us  listen 
to  its  teachings." 


332  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

The  news  spread  rapidly  and  hundreds  of  eager 
natives  came,  desirous  to  hear  the  wonderful  story  of  the 
Cross.  Many  who  lived  at  a  distance  begged  Mr.  Board- 
man  to  visit  their  villages  and  preach  to  their  people  at 
home.  This  he  promised  to  do,  and  in  company  with 
Ko  Tha,  who  was  beginning  to  be  very  useful  in  the 
work,  he  set  out  on  the  journey.  It  was  a  daring  expe- 
dition, as  it  led  through  wild  mountain  passes  and 
trackless  jungles,  the  places  which  alone  could  afford 
refuge  for  the  oppressed  tribes  of  the  reviled  race.  Mrs. 
Boardman  wept  to  see  her  husband  venturing  upon  such 
a  journey.  Ko  Tha's  wife,  who  remained  with  her, 
and  who  had  recently  been  converted,  offered  such  words 
of  consolation  as  are  characteristic  of  one  who  had 
undergone  such  a  transition  from  darkness  to  light. 

"  Weep  not,  mamma ;  the  teacher  has  gone  on  a  mes- 
sage of  compassion  to  my  poor,  perishing  countrymen. 
They  have  never  heard  of  the  true  God  and  of  the  love 
of  his  Son  Jesus  Christ,  yes,  Christ  who  died  upon  the 
cross  to  save  sinners.  They  know  nothing  of  the  true 
religion,  mamma ;  and  when  they  die  can  not  go  to  the 
golden  country  of  the  blessed.  God  will  take  care  of 
the  teacher;  do  not  weep,  mamma." 

The  missionaries  were  hospitably  received  at  all  the 
villages,  and  when  their  object  was  made  known,  the 
natives  ran  from  door  to  door  crying  to  every  one  they 
met. 

"  The  white  man  from  the  West  has  come  with  the 
Book  of  God!  The  white  man  with  the  Book  of  God! 
Come  hear  him  read  and  explain  it!" 

They  seemed  hungry  for  the  Gospel,  and  bore  away 
with  delight  the  tracts  and  portions  of  Scripture  dis- 
tributed among  them. 


THE   CHILD    OF   THE   GANGES.  333 

Ko  Tha-Byu's  heart  was  deeply  touched  by  the 
longing  of  his  perishing  countrymen,  and  he  resolved 
to  devote  his  life  to  preaching  the  Gospel  in  the  jungles. 
He  was  not  educated,  but  he  was  deeply  earnest,  and 
understood  from  joyful  experience  the  full  meaning  of 
salvation  by  grace.  Accordingly,  after  their  return  to 
Tavoy,  he  was  ordained  to  the  full  work  of  the  min- 
istry. 

He  went  far  into  the  mountain  recesses  to  begin  his 
labor.  In  a  hovel  on  a  wild  mountain-slope  he  preached 
his  first  sermon.  It  was  in  the  home  of  Sau-Quala,  of 
whom  we  made  mention  before.  Both  the  child  of 
"  Hope  "  and  his  mother  were  converted  by  the  sermon, 
Quala  remarking : 

"  Is  not  this  the  very  thing  for  which  we  have  been 
looking  and  waiting  so  long?  " 

The  prophetic  "  hope  "  of  the  parents  was  at  length 
realized.  Quala  now  felt  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  laid 
mightily  upon  him,  impelling  him  to  go  with  Ko  Tha 
to  bear  the  news  to  his  people. 

Thousands  of  Karens  have  been  since  converted 
through  the  labors  of  the  two  zealous  missionaries, 
their  success  being  so  marvelous  that  they  have  been 
appropriately  titled  the  "  Karen  Apostles." 

The  converts  among  the  Karen  were  the  most  satisfac- 
tory of  any  the  teachers  had  ever  seen.  They  mani- 
fested a  spirit  of  such  meekness,  docility,  and  earnest- 
ness as  would  put  to  shame  many  of  their  more 
enlightened  brethren  in  civilized  lands.  Mr.  Judson 
often  spent  months  in  the  jungle  preaching  to  them. 
The  noble  Boardman  sacrificed  his  life  in  their  midst. 
On  his  death-bed  he  had   the  joy  of   witnessing  the 


334  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

solemn  ordinance  of  baptism  administered  to  thirty- 
four  of  his  recent  converts. 

After  having  established  missions  in  Maulmain  and 
around  through  the  country,  Mr.  Judson  traveled  much 
from  place  to  place.  Since  Ko  Tha  had  gone  with  Mr. 
Boardman  to  Tavoy,  Moung  Ing  and  his  w^fe  were 
appointed  to  labor  in  Rangoon,  and  endeavor  to  re-estab- 
lish the  church  there.  Mr.  Judson  visited  the  valley 
of  the  Irrawaddy  again,  bringing  with  him  a  great 
quantity  of  tracts  and  extracts  from  the  Bible,  which 
was  now  wholly  translated  into  Burmese. 

A  great  interest  had  sprung  up.  The  tracts  formerly 
circulated,  like  leaven,  had  pervaded  the  whole  empire. 
The  king  still  opposed,  but  the  people  clamored  for  a 
knowledge  of  the  true  God,  showing  how  essential  God 
is  to  the  soul  in  all  nations.  Mr.  Judson  writes  from 
Rangoon  to  a  friend : 

"The  great  annual  festival  is  just  past,  during  which  mul- 
titudes came  from  the  remotest  parts  of  the  country  to  worship 
at  the  great  Sh way-da-gong  pagoda  in  this  place,  where  it  is 
believed  that  several  real  hairs  of  Gautama  are  enshrined. 
During  the  festival  I  have  given  away  nearly  ten  thousand 
tracts,  giving  to  none  but  those  who  ask.  I  presume  that  there 
have  been  six  thousand  applications  at  the  house.  Some  come 
two  or  three  months'  journey,  from  the  borders  of  Si  am  and 
China.  '  Sir,  we  hear  that  there  is  an  eternal  hell.  We  are 
afraid  of  it.  Do  give  us  a  writing  that  will  tell  us  how  to 
escape  it.' 

11  Others  come  from  the  frontiers  of  Kathay,  a  hundred 
miles  north  of  Ava.  '  Sir,  we  have  seen  a  writing  that  tells 
about  an  eternal  God.  Are  you  the  man  that  gives  away  such 
writings  ?  If  so,  pray  give  us  one,  for  we  want  to  know  the 
truth  before  we  die.' 


(335^ 


336  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

11  Others  come  from  the  interior  of  the  country,  where  the 
name  of  Jesus  Christ  is  little  known.  '  Are  you  Jesus  Christ's 
man  ?    Give  us  a  writing  that  tells  of  Jesus  Christ.'  " 

A  printing  press  was  at  work  day  and  night,  but  it 
was  unable  to  supply  the  wants  of  the  craving  multi- 
tude. Thus  the  Lord  has  blessed  the  labors  of  the  two 
missionaries  who  landed  there  under  such  discouraging 
circumstances  fifteen  years  before.  The  sufferings  were 
great — the  loss  of  wife  and  babes  severe — yet  the  grand 
results  compensate  for  all  the  sufferings  of  trie  past ; 
and  now  is  the  cry : 

"  The  harvest  is  plentiful,  but  the  laborers  few.  God, 
send  us  more  laborers  into  the  field !  " 


CHAPTER  V. 

"  Havelock's  glorious  Highlanders  answer  with  conquering  cheers, 
Forth  from  their  holes  and  their  hidings  our  women  and  children  come  out, 
Blessing  the  wholesome  white  faces  of  Havelock's  good  fusileers, 
Kissing  the  war-harden'd  hand  of  the  Highlander  wet  with  their  tears. 
Dance  to  the  pibroch !— saved !  we  are  saved !— is  it  you?  is  it  you? 
Saved  by  the  valor  of  Havelock,  saved  by  the  blessing  of  Heaven ! 
1  Hold  it  for  fifteen  days  ! '    We  have  held  it  for  eighty-seven ! 
And  ever  aloft  on  the  palace  roof  the  old  banner  of  England  blew." 

—Tennyson. 

The  reader's  attention  is  now  directed  forward  over 
a  period  thirty-one  years  from  the  death  of  Mrs.  Judson, 
to  the  close  of  the  year  1857,  when  we  look  upon  the 
final  scene  that  opens  the  gates  of  the  East  to  the  King 
of  Glory.  In  India  all  seems  quiet,  the  hundreds  of 
millions  of  subjects  bowing  in  meek  submission  to  the 
handful  of  foreigners,  and  thousands  of  the  natives 
serving  as  soldiers  in  the  pay  of  the  British. 

Suddenly,  like  a  spark  of  fire  to  a  powder  magazine, 
there  burst  forth  a  mutiny  at  whose  atrocities  the  ears 
of  all  nations  were  made  to  tingle  with  horror.  The 
Sepoy  armies  learned  that  the  cartridges  furnished 
them  by  the  British  for  use  in  their  rifles  were  greased 
with  beef's  tallow.  To  touch  that  product  of  the  sacred 
bullock  was  to  lose  caste.  Their  rage  knew  no  bounds. 
The  mutiny  spread  throughout  the  land.  All  English 
garrisons  were  furiously  assaulted,  and  their  inmates, 
who  could  not  escape,  relentlessly  butchered.  The 
insurgents  professed  to  restore  the  ancient  Mogul 
dynasty,  and  fought  in  the  name  of  the  King  of  Oude. 
22  (337) 


338  THE  CHILD  OP  THE  GANGES. 

Mi3sionaries  were  dragged  about  the  streets  of  Delhi  by 
Moslem  fiends,  who  continually  beat  them  over  the 
heads  and  called  on  them,  in  derision,  to  preach  Christ 
to  them.  Helpless  women  and  children  were  foully 
murdered  in  their  beds,  their  feet  cut  off  and  placed  in 
rows  around  the  walls,  while  their  amputated  hands 
and  heads  were  piled  in  ghastly  heaps  in  the  middle  of 
the  floor,  leaving  the  gory  bodies  weltering  among  the 
bed-clothes.  Little  children  clinging  to  the  bosoms  of 
their  mothers  were  thrust  through  by  savage  bayonets 
and  left  fastened  there,  mingling  their  frantic  death 
agonies  together;  and  old  veterans  were  ruthlessly 
dragged  from  their  rooms,  where  their  captors,  clutch- 
ing their  gray  hair  in  one  hand,  smote  off  their  heads 
with  a  sword  in  the  other. 

A  vast  horde  of  rebels  surrounded  Cawnpore,  whose 
feeble  garrison  contained  less  than  three  hundred  sol- 
diers, with  five  hundred  women  and  children,  the  fami- 
lies of  officers,  then  besieged  at  Lucknow.  The  atrocious 
Nana  Sahib  led  the  insurgents  in  person.  The  garrison 
resisted  bravely  for  more  than  seven  months,  until  it, 
seemed  that  they  could  not  stand  another  day  longer. 
At  this  point  Nana  Sahib,  wearied  with  their  long 
endurance,  made  them  a  seemingly  generous  offer,  pro- 
posing to  furnish  them  boats  and  a  safe  passage  to 
Allahabad  if  they  would  lay  down  their  arms.  It 
seemed  the  last  resort,  as  their  store  of  provisions  was 
about  exhausted.  They  embraced  the  opportunity  of 
escape,  and  went  aboard  the  boats  provided  for  them. 
But  no  sooner  had  all  embarked  than  a  masked  fire  was 
poured  upon  them,  and  the  banks  were  both  soon  lined 
with  mounted  horsemen.     All  escape  was  cut  off  to  the 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  339 

now  helpless  band,  and  they  were  compelled  to  die, 
without  resistance,  thus  beset  on  every  side.  The  water 
was  soon  red  with  the  blood  of  the  slain.  Boats  floated 
away  empty  or  sank  overladen  with  the  dead  and 
pierced  with  bullets.  A  few  of  the  women  and  children 
were  spared  for  a  worse  fate.  In  a  few  days  they  were 
brought  out  of  their  prison,  before  their  treacherous 
protector,  who  had  them  immediately  executed,  and 
their  bodies,  many  of  them  yet  breathing,  thrown  into 
a  well  in  the  court-yard. 

Like  horrible  scenes  were  enacted  at  Allahabad  and 
Benares,  but  Colonel  Neill  rescued  ea^h  place  before 
matters  had  reached  such  a  crisis  as  at  Cawnpore. 

The  gallant  General  Henry  Havelock,  whose  fame 
was  now  spoken  of  the  world  over,  having  heard  of  the 
seige  of  Cawnpore,  hastened  thither  with  his  troops  of 
Highlanders  to  the  relief  of  the  garrison,  but  arrived 
too  late,  the  massacre  of  the  women  and  children 
having  taken  place  the  day  before.  On  the  bank  of  the 
Ganges  he  defeated  Nana  Sahib,  and  then  joining  his 
army  to  that  of  Sir  James  Outram,  who  had  just 
arrived,  hastened  to  the  relief  of  Lucknow. 

Never  before,  since  the  memorable  seige  of  Jerusalem, 
has  earth  witnessed  such  an  action  as  that  at  Lucknow. 
Sir  Henry  Lawrence  who  had  charge  of  the  residency, 
had  made  some  successful  sallies  upon  the  besiegers, 
but  was  finally  slain  and  the  troops  compelled  to  retire 
into  a  smaller  fort,  where,  under  the  command  of  Col- 
onel Robert  Stuart,  they  continued  bravely  to  resist 
the  foe.  Many  of  the  wives  and  families  of  the  High- 
landers had  been  left  at  Lucknow  for  protection.  Mano- 
hara  stood  by  her  husband,  the  gallant  Colonel,  through 


340  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

all  the  seige,  encouraging  him  by  her  hopeful  words 
and  heroic  fortitude.  It  was,  by  no  means,  the  first 
time  they  had  braved  death  together,  and  they  resolved 
to  die  rather  than  surrender  the  garrison  to  the  tender 
mercies  of  the  murderers  of  Cawnpore's  innocents.  But 
now  it  seemed  that  every  hope  was  lost.  Provisions 
were  scarce,  ammunition  almost  exhausted,  and  the 
strength  of  the  soldiers  failing  before  the  ceaseless 
charges  of  the  enemy  which  was  renewed  by  daily  re- 
inforcements. 

The  relief  party  made  desperate  efforts  to  reach  the 
city  as  soon  as  possible,  but  found  every  foot  of  the  way 
contested.  Numerous  engagements  had  been  fought, 
and  they  were  almost  worn  out  with  fatigue,  and  many 
of  them  weak  from  loss  of  blood.  Beneath  the  walls 
of  the  Furred  Buksh  Havelock  and  Outram  held  a  con- 
sultation. 

"  The  brave  troops  have  come  through  many  difficul- 
ties to-day,"  said  Outram.  "I  fear  they  will  be  unable 
to  advance  any  further,  much  less  meet  successfully  a 
fresh  foe  of  more  than  ten  times  their  strength.  Had 
we  not  better  go  in  camp  till  morning?  " 

But  in  every  engagement  Havelock's  cry  had  ever 
been  "  Forward !  "  To  his  untiring  persistency  he  owed 
his  success. 

"  No,  we  must  press  forward  this  very  night,"  he  said. 
"Think,  the  garrison  may,  at  this  moment,  be  exposed 
to  the  final  assault;  the  enemy  may  collect  during  the 
nigh+  in  overwhelming  masses ;  it  is  of  much  impor- 
tance to  let  the  garrison  know  that  succor  is  at  hand." 

At  last  General  Outram  consented,  and  taking  only 
two  regiments,  the  Highlanders  and  the  Sikhs,  they 
pressed  forward  to  the  beleaguered  city. 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  341 

As  the  slender  column  entered  the  street,  the  houses 
on  either  side  flashed  with  almost  a  solid  sheet  of  flame, 
as  the  bullets  whistled  through  the  air,  and  rattled 
against  the  stones ;  while,  to  retard  the  progress  of  the 
rescuers,  deep  ditches  had  been  cut  across  the  streets. 
The  housetops,  and  connecting  arches  were  alive  with 
men,  and  ablaze  with  flashes  of  fire  and  rolling  smoke. 
Passing  under  one  of  these  arches  General  Neill,  the 
hero  of  Benares  and  Allahabad,  fell  from  his  horse,  a 
corpse.  His  enraged  followers  turned  aside,  for  a 
moment,  in  a  useless  endeavor  to  avenge  his  death  by  a 
volley  among  the  countless  throngs  around  and  over- 
head. Only  for  a  moment,  "  Forward !  "  in  thunder 
tones  came  the  stern  command  of  Havelock.  Even 
though  his  own  brave  son  fell  at  his  side,  he  did  not 
halt,  but  rode  calmly  at  the  head  of  his  rapidly  decreas- 
ing ranks.  It  was  not  an  hour  for  lamentation  or 
revenge.  At  each  crosssing  were  placed  batteries  that 
vomited  forth  a  continual  stream  of  fire  and  burning 
showers  of  lead  and  iron  into  the  approaching  ranks. 
Each  street  they  entered  seemed  to  enclose  them  between 
two  walls  of  incessant,  lurid  flames.  Around  each 
corner  drifted  a  storm  of  leaden  messengers,  like  snow- 
flakes  driven  by  the  wind  in  a  blizzard,  covering  the 
ground  with  writhing  heaps  of  dead  and  dying.  Thou- 
sands of  hideous  voices  yelled  in  rage  and  defiance,  the 
streets  and  walls  rattled  with  the  rain  of  balls,  like  hail 
on  a  roof.  The  smoke  rose  aloft,  giving  the  city,  as  it 
stood  in  the  night,  more  the  appearance  of  a  volcano 
than  a  residence  of  living  beings.  Havelock  turned 
his  face  neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the  left.  If  the 
bleeding   column    faltered,   his    clarion   voice    crying 


342  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

"Forward!"  heard  above  the  din  of  battle,  was  suffi- 
cient to  nerve  them  for  yet  another  exertion.  Now  the 
walls  of  the  residency  are  reached,  and  the  Highlanders 
place  the  bagpipes  to  their  lips  to  announce  their  victory. 

A  crisis  was  approaching  within  the  garrison. 

"  Hold  it  for  fifteen  days.  Never  surrender,  but  let 
every  man  die  at  his  post!"  had  been  the  dying  words 
of  the  gallant  Lawrence. 

They  had  held  it  for  fifteen  days  and  thrice  the  time ; 
they  had  never  surrendered ;  and  it  seemed  that  every 
man  was  about  to  die  at  his  post.  The  ablest  of  their 
number  had  fallen,  picked  by  sharp-shooters  from  a 
lofty  mosque  overlooking  the  wall.  Fever  and  cholera 
were  raging.  They  could  not  venture  out  to  bury  their 
dead,  even  if  they  had  had  the  time.  The  heat  was 
almost  unbearable,  and  mingled  with  the  odors  of  decay- 
ing flesh  it  was  deathly  in  its  effect.  Mine  after  mine 
had  been  sprung.  Numerous  rents  had  been  made  in 
the  wall.  Even  now  an  ominous  "  click,  click  "  could 
be  heard  close  without.  Kegs  of  powder  are  being 
rolled  into  the  opening  made  beneath.  Only  a  touch 
of  fire  now,  and  all  is  over.  Every  man  was  fully  per- 
suaded that  within  twenty-four  hours  their  fate  would 
be  sealed.  Havel ock  was  doubtless  defeated,  and  they 
must  prepare  to  die  "every  man  at  his  post."  The 
children  cried,  and  the  women  prayed  within. 

From  a  commanding  position  Colonel  Stuart  watched 
the  designs  of  the  enemy  and  issued  orders  to  his  men 
in  what  way  to  thwart  them.  Thus  many  a  scaling 
ladder  lifted  toward  the  wTall  was  dropped  as  its  bearer 
fell,  pierced  by  a  timely  ball  from  within  the  barricade 
Manohara  was  here,  there,  everywhere;  bearing  mes- 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  343 

sages  from  her  husband  to  different  parts  of  the  garri- 
son, and  bringing  cups  of  hot  coffee  to  the  exhausted 
gunners.  On  one  of  her  rounds  she  was  accompanied 
by  Jessie  Brown,  the  wife  of  a  corporal  in  Colonel 
Stuart's  regiment.  Poor  Jessie  had  "been  feverish  and 
excited  during  the  whole  siege,  and,  at  times,  delirious. 
To-night  she  was  unusually  restless.  Returning  she 
sank  down  with  fatigue,  and  soon  fell  asleep,  begging 
Manohara  to  call  her  when  her  "  father  should  come 
home  from  the  plowing."  Manohara  was  herself  weary 
and  exhausted,  and  also  fell  into  a  slumber,  despite  the 
roar  without.  Suddenly  she  was  awakened  by  a  shrill, 
unearthly  scream  at  her  ear.  Jessie  stood  in  the  middle 
of  the  floor,  a  wild  look  on  her  face,  her  hands  behind 
her  ears,  and  her  eyes  piercing  out  over  the  clouds  of 
smoke  as  if  listening. 

"  Dinna  ye  hear  it?  dinna  ye  hear  it?  "  she  screamed 
in  delight.  "  Ay,  I'm  no  dreamin' ;  its  the  slogan  o'  the 
Highlanders !  We're  saved,  we're  saved !  " 

Then  falling  upon  her  knees,  with  streaming  eyes  and 
fervent  voice,  she  thanked  God  for  his  deliverance.  The 
eager  women  within  ran  anxiously  to  the  spot  to  listen, 
but  no  one  could  hear  aught  save  the  roar  of  cannon. 
She  now  darted  away  to  the  line  of  soldiers. 

"  Courage !  Courage  !  "  she  cried.  "  Hark  !  to  the 
slogan — to  the  MacGregok,  the  grandest  of  them  a\ 
Here's  help  at  last !  " 

The  soldiers  stood  as  if  electrified.  With  poised 
guns  ready  to  fire,  they  paused  to  listen.  Only  the 
rattle  of  musketry.  In  bitter  disappointment  they 
turned  to  their  duty.  The  women  set  up  a  pitiful  wail 
as  the  Colonel  shook  his  head  in  answer  to  their  inquiries 


344  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

whether  he  heard  anything.  The  poor,  half-frantic 
Jessie  sank  to  the  ground  as  in  a  swoon.  After  a  few 
moments  of  anxious  suspense  she  sprang  to  her  feet 
and  cried  with  a  piercing  voice  heard  to  the  end  of  the 
line. 

"Will  ye  no  believe  it  noo?  The  slogan  has  ceased 
indeed,  but  the  Campbells  are  coniin' !  D'ye  hear? 
D'ye  hear?  " 

Now  indeed  was  heard  a  sound  as  sweet  to  the  besieged 
garrison  as  the  music  of  angelic  choirs,  as,  above  the 
din  of  battle,  rose  the  shrill  notes  of  the  Scottish 
pibroch,  now  wild  and  harsh  as  if  threatening  vengeance 
upon  the  foe,  then  softly  promising  deliverence  to  their 
friends.  With  one  accord,  all  fell  on  their  knees,  for- 
getting their  loaded  guns,  to  thank  God  for  his  mercies. 
,  With  a  mighty  shout  the  Highlanders  burst  through 
the  barricades  headed  by  Havelock.  Cheers  answered 
from  within.  Havelock  and  Stuart  rushed  into  each 
other's  arms,  while  the  Highlanders  clasped  their  wives 
and  children  to  their  breasts.  In  the  midst  of  all 
Havelock  was  heard  to  exclaim,  "  Not  unto  us,  O  Lord ! 
not  unto  us,  but  unto  Thy  name  give  glory !  " 

The  garrison  now  raised  the  shout,  "God  save  the 
Queen;"  to  which  the  pibrochs  replied  with  the  strain, 
"  Should  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot?" 

Joy  reigned  in  every  bosom.  A  rich  banquet  was 
given  the  famished  garrison,  in  which  the  officers  drank 
to  Jessie's  health  and  the  Highlanders  marched  around 
the  table  playing  the  familiar  and  soul-stirring  air  of 
"Auld  Lang  Syne." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

We  are  living,  we  are  dwelling 

In  a  graDd  and  awful  time, 
In  an  age  on  ages  telling ; 

To  be  living  is  sublime. 
Hark !  the  waking  up  of  nations, 

Gog  and  Magog  to  the  fray. 
Hark !  what  soundeth  ?    'Tis  creation 

Groaning  for  its  latter  day." 


The  rescue  of  Lucknow  practically  ended  the  war  of 
the  rebellion,  as  news  now  came  of  the  capture  of  the 
other  important  points;  but  the  rebels  were  not  wholly 
conquered  until  Sir  Colin  Campbell  arrived  with  re- 
inforcements, and  struck  the  decisive  blow.  The  salva- 
tion of  the  garrison  had  been  bought  at  a  terrible  cost. 
One-third  of  the  brave  rescuers  lay  dead  in  the  streets, 
their  bodies  trampled  beneath  the  feet  of  the  raging 
mob.  But  more  than  all,  their  heroic  commander, 
Havelock,  now  lies  at  the  point  of  death.  The  exces- 
sive fatigues  and  anxieties  of  his  numerous  engage- 
ments, together  with  the  climate,  so  unfavorable  to  great 
activity,  brought  on  dysentery,  which  prostrated  him 
with  the  first  attack.  He  was  dying  at  the  zenith  of 
his  fame.  The  Queen  of  England  recognized  his  bravery, 
and  rewarded  it  with  the  highest  honor.  He  was 
removed  from  the  residency  to  the  camp  of  Sir  Colin 
Campbell,  who  now,  by  the  authority  of  the  Queen, 
addressed  him  as  Sir  Henry.  Though  called  to  go  at 
the  time  when  the  laurels  were  just  within  his  grasp, 

(345) 


346  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

the  good  man  was  happy.  He  had  fought  a  good  fight, 
he  had  kept  the  faith.  For  the  success  of  every  battle 
he  had  given  God  the  glory.  After  every  marvelous 
escape  from  death  he  had  assembled  his  troops  and 
caused  them  to  kneel  while  he  offered  up  thanks  to  the 
Lord  of  Hosts.  To  Sir  James  Outram,  who  stood  by 
him,  he  said: 

"  For  forty  years  I  have  so  ruled  my  life  that  when 
death  came  I  might  face  it  without  fear." 

He  was  happy,  too,  because  his  wife  and  little  ones 
were  safe  from  the  cruelties  to  which  hundreds  of  others 
had  been  subjected.  He  had  already  established  them 
in  Germany  on  the  Khine,  where  he  expected  his  chil- 
dren to  be  educated.  But  his  wife  was  the  daughter 
of  that  great  light  of  the  Serampore  Mission,  Dr.  Marsh- 
man,  and  would  have  bravely  remained  at  his  side  if 
he  had  consented.  Now,  too,  the  widow  would  be  pro- 
vided for.  He  could  not  enjoy  the  Queen's  bounty,  but 
the  thousand  pounds  a  year  would  still  go  to  her  and 
the  children.  He  was  happy,  also,  because  the  great 
war  was  over,  and  his  beloved  Stuart  would  take  his 
place  in  restoring  peace  and  quiet  to  the  distracted  land. 

Robert  and  Manohara  were  by  his  side  till  the  last. 
She  held  his  throbbing  head  and  bathed  his  feverish 
brow  as  tenderly  as  his  own  wife  could  have  done.  In 
his  last  moments  he  thanked  God  for  the  waif  of  the 
Ganges  that  had  been  brought  to  the  "white  mamma" 
and  trained  to  be  a  Christian  soldier's  wife. 

Two  older  sons  had  engaged  with  him  in  the  battle. 
One  fell  in  the  streets  of  Lucknow ;  the  other,  with  a 
broken  arm,  stood  beside  the  sick  bed.  The  end  was 
near. 


348         THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

"  So  be  it,"  said  the  sufferer ;  "  I  am  ready." 

Then,  seeing  his  sorrowful  son  standing  near,  he 
called  to  him  cheerfully : 

"  Come,  come,  my  son,  and  see  how  a  Christian  can 
die !  » 

Then,  with  his  son  holding  one  hand  and  Colonel 
Stuart  the  other,  he  quietly  breathed  his  last. 

We  are  now  called  upon  to  witness  a  great  and  happy 
change  in  the  government  of  India.  It  was  now  trans- 
ferred from  the  East  India  Company  to  the  English 
Crown,  and  Queen  Victoria  was  proclaimed  Empress  of 
India.  Strong  garrisons  were  firmly  established  in  all 
the  principal  cities,  and  peace  and  order  restored.  The 
new  government,  instead  of  throwing  obstacles  in  the 
way  of  mission  work,  now  offered  encouragement. 
Great  attention  was  now  given  to  religion  and  educa- 
tion, for  it  has  been  proven  that  these  are  the  most 
potent  factors  in  successful  ruling.  The  wholesale  sui- 
cides at  Hurdwar  and  Benares,  the  drowning  of  infants 
in  the  Ganges,  and  the  suttee  of  widows  were  strictly 
forbidden.  General  Robert  Stuart  was  stationed  at 
Benares  with  his  forces  to  prevent  any  violation  of 
these  restrictions.  The  law  was  hard  to  enforce  on 
account  of  the  superstitions  of  the  people,  but  they 
gradually  submitted.  Many  a  poor  child  did  Manohara 
herself  preserve  from  the  crocodile's  jaws  She  told  the 
deluded  mothers  of  her  own  narrow  escape,  and  pointed 
them  to  Christ,  the-Atonement  for  sin. 

Instead  of  missionary  progress  being  impeded  by  the 
loss  of  life  and  property  by  the  war,  it  was  greatly 
advanced. 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  349 

The  story  of  sufferings  and  persecutions  touched  a 
chord  of  sympathy  in  the  hearts  of  English  and  Amer- 
ican Christians,  and  they  responded  warmly  to  the 
appeals  for  aid.  New  forces  were  sent,  colleges  and 
churches  erected,  publication  houses  established,  and  a 
wonderful  impetus  imparted  to  the  instruction  of  the 
natives.  The  English  language  is  the  language  of  the 
conquerors,  and  all  wish  to  learn  it.  With  it  goes  a 
knowledge  of  God. 

How  sublime  are  the  wonderful  workings  of  Jehovah ! 
When  the  storm  raged  in  Burmah,  we  cried  out  in  des- 
pair: 

"Alas !  alas !  only  two  missionaries,  and  they  in  pri- 
son.    Our  cause  is  hopelessly  lost !  " 

But  that  very  persecution  was  the  means  of  bringing 
the  persecuted  teachers  into  the  sympathies  of  indolent 
Christians  throughout  the  world,  who  now  rallied  to 
their  assistance,  and  of  bringing  them  in  closer  con- 
tact with  the  obtuse-minded  and  proud-hearted  officials, 
who  would  never  have  known  them  otherwise.  Now 
the  clouds  have  rolled  away,  the  Sun  of  Righteous- 
ness beameth  on  the  darkened  country  of  the  Golden 
Face,  and  tens  of  thousands  praise  the  Jehovah  of  the 
despised  Karens. 

When  the  raging  blast  of  the  rebellion  swept  with 
such  terrific  fury  over  India,  it  threatened  to  annihilate 
the  germs  of  civilization,  and  leave  the  blood-soaked 
soil  free  once  more,  to  sprout  the  gory  dynasty  of  the 
decaying  Mogul  glory.  But  the  poetic  days,  when  the 
glittering  splendor  of  the  Rajahs  exulted  over  the  cries 
of  the  slain,  had  passed.  The  hand  of  God  had  planted 
the  seeds  of  the  truth,  even  turning  the  opposition  of 
stubborn  rulers  into  praise  and  thanksgiving. 


350  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES* 

"  Oh,  the  depths  of  the  riches,  both  of  s  the  knowledge 
and  wisdom  of  God;  how  unsearchable  are  His  judg- 
ments and  His  ways  past  tracing  out !  " 

Here,  thinking  my  work  was  completed,  I  laid  aside 
my  pen  and,  much  wearied,  fell  asleep,  when  there 
occurred  to  me  such  a  vision,  that  I  must  tell  it  to  the 
reader,  for  its  scenes  are  true. 

Methought,  by  a  swift  conveyance  of  modern  inven- 
tion, I  was  transported  through  the  air  and  over  inter- 
vening seas,  until  I  stood  on  the  topmost  crags  of  the 
Himalayan  peaks.  The  thin  air  was  clear  and  pure, 
as  I  looked  with  rapturous  gaze  upon  the  luxuriant 
plains  and  embowered  cities  in  the  South,  stretching 
from  the  base  of  my  lofty  pedestal  even  to  the  blue 
line,  where  I  knew  sparkled  the  waters  of  the  Bay  of 
Bengal.  Slowly  oozing  from  the  snows  beneath  my 
feet,  and  trickling  like  icy  pearl-drops  down  the  crags, 
I  saw  the  fountain  of  the  Ganges.  Following  the 
streamlets  as  they  increased,  I  beheld  the  mighty  tide 
rushing  through  the  gates  of  Hurdwar  and  spreading 
out,  a  placid  stream,  rolling  along  the  plain.  Looking 
to  the  southeast  I  saw  the  Irrawaddy  traversing  its  fertile 
valley,  and,  far  to  my  left,  the  great  Yangtse  Kiang  of 
China.  The  aspect  of  Burmah  had  changed ;  once  more 
she  had  made  war  with  England  and  had  been  forced 
to  surrender  large  tracts  of  her  territory.  These  the 
people  of  God  had  appropriated  at  once.  The  gov- 
ernment of  the  Burman  monarch  had  grown  smaller 
and  smaller,  until  it  scarcely  was  felt  beyond  the  lim- 
its of  the  Golden  City;  while  foreigners,  bearing  the 
seeds  of  the  Gospel,  are  penetrating  every  jungle  and 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.  351 

settling  in  every  city  and  village.  The  white-leaved 
tracts  and  Bibles  are  circulating  in  every  direction. 
King  Thirrawaddy,  sitting  on  the  throne  of  his  deposed 
brother,  says  to  a  teacher,  "Come  to  the  Golden  City, 
and  I  will  build  you  a  zayat  to  preach  in."  Prince 
Mekara,  or  Moung  Ing,  heeding  not  the  political  strifes 
of  his  covetous  nephews,  is  leading  the  Lord's  hosts  to 
possess  the  land,  and  soon  the  whole  will  be  ceded,  not 
to  Victoria,  but  to  Prince  Immanuel. 

In  India,  too,  a  mighty  revolution  has  taken  place. 
Calcutta,  Madras,  Serampore,  Benares,  Delhi  and  Agra 
are  becoming  great  centers  for  soldiers  of  the  Cross, 
and  Allahabad  is  becoming  more  of  what  its  name 
implies,  "  The  City  of  God."  From  Bombay,  stretching 
across  to  Calcutta,  and  touching  all  intervening  cities 
of  importance,  I  see  a  huge  black  line,  with  numerous 
branches  intersecting  it  in  various  directions.  "  Some- 
thing new,"  thought  I.  "  What  can  it  be  ?  "  Then  I 
heard  a  shrill  whistle — strange  sound  in  that  hitherto 
unprogressive  land — and  waking  the  echoes  in  the 
ruined  temples  and  crumbling  palaces ;  a  long  line  of 
white  smoke ;  a  thundering  tread,  that  caused  the  sandy 
ground  to  tremble  beneath  ;  a  glimpse  of  rapidly  revolv- 
ing wheels — and  the  stranger  was  gone.  But  in  its 
wake  were  left,  at  various  stations,  articles  of  merchan- 
dise, books,  tracts  and  missionaries. 

Then  I  noticed  a  change  in  the  aspect  of  the  Ganges. 
Dead  bodies  no  longer  floated  on  her  bosom,  but  the 
white  sails  of  commerce  glided  from  port  to  port. 

Benares  is  wonderfully  changed.  It  is  Sabbath  morn- 
ing. A  great  crowd  is  standing  on  the  bathing  ghaut 
at   the   river.      In   the   water   is    a  pale-faced    foreign 


352  THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

teacher,  surrounded  by  a  number  of  natives  with  meek, 
tranquil  faces.  On  the  bank  stands  another  teacher, 
reading  aloud  from  a  sacred  book — but  not  the  Shaster. 
One  by  one,  the  man  in  the  water  administers  the  sacred 
rite  of  baptism  to  each  new  convert.  Then  they  come 
out  and  a  sound  wakes  the  air  from  a  thousand  voices, 
but  no  gongs  are  heard.  It  is  Jehovah's  praise  they 
sing.  The  thin  air  around  me  seems  an  electric 
medium,  through  which  every  sound  is  borne  to  my 
ears. 

Now  from  among  the  golden-spired  temples  on  the 
cliffs  there  peals  a  sound  that  arouses  my  curiosity 
more  than  ever.  Can  it  be  the  pagoda  bells  ?  No,  the 
air  is  perfectly  still,  and  then  it  is  too  deep  and  full 
for  that.  Is  it  the  gong  in  the  temple?  No,  it  is  too 
soft  and  melodious  for  that.  Now  another  and  another, 
here  and  there,  they  resound  in  every  part  of  the  city. 
The  pigeons  circle  about  the  spires  in  alarm.  The 
grinning  monkey-gods  leap  upon  the  roof  of  their 
dwelling  and  look  around  with  a  quizzical  expression. 

The  crowd  at  the  river  now  begins  to  approach  in  the 
direction  of  the  sounds,  and  I  understand  the  mystery — 
church  bells ;  strange,  and  yet  how  sweet  their  music ! 
Now  my  ears  are  ringing  with  vibrations,  so  that  I  can 
scarcely  distinguish  one  sound  from  another.  Grad- 
ually I  grow  more  accustomed  to  them  and  can  trace 
each  to  its  source.  From  Bombay  they  come,  joining 
others  along  the  line  of  the  railroad  ;  from  the  Punjab ; 
from  the  Deccan  ;  from  Hurdwar  throughout  the  valley 
to  Calcutta.  Then  from  my  left,  I  hear  something.  Is 
it  an  echo  from  the  rocks?  No,  up  from  Rangoon, 
Burmah,  the  music  floats.     Maulmain  joins  the  chorus ; 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES.         353 

then  Tavoy,  Prome,  and  even  Ava.  Arracan  resounds 
along  the  seashore ;  then  a  fainter  sound ;  from  away 
down  in  Siam  it  conies  stealing.  Over  my  shoulder 
floats  a  timid  strain.  ,1  listen  closely.  Thank  God! 
Old  China  is  speaking.  Revelling  in  these  delightful 
sounds  I  stood  musingly  gazing  down  upon  Benares, 
the  Holy  City.  It  seemed  that  I  must  be  in  heaven 
listening  to  the  music  of  angelic  voices,  so  sweet  was 
the  sensation  of  my  soul. 

The  music  ceases,  a  feeling  of  sadness  follows ;  for  I 
fear  the'  spell  will  be  broken  and  the  vision  lost.  But, 
no.  By  a  swift  transition  from  light  to  darkness,  and 
night  to  day,  Monday  morning  dawns  and  the  scene 
remains  the  same.  The  bathing  ghauts  are  thronged  as 
usual.  Near  the  outskirts  of  the  city  a  mother  timidly 
shrinks  behind  a  wall  on  the  river  bank,  holding  a  child 
in  her  arms.  She  glances  cautiously  around,  for  the 
deed  she  contemplates  is  now  considered  a  crime  instead 
of  a  religious  duty  as  formerly.  Yet  she  cannot  give 
up  the  old  faith,  and  the  Brahmins  have  encouraged 
her  to  perform  her  duty.  Laying  the  precious  burden 
on  the  ground,  she  kneels  and  earnestly  prays  to  Vishnu 
that  the  soul  of  her  dear  one  may  be  preserved  and 
born  again  free  from  the  curse  of  womanhood.  Then, 
with  a  bursting  heart,  she  stands  and  clasps  her 
babe  to  her  bosom  for  the  last  time.  The  cloak  is 
wrapped  about  the  little  form  and  all  is  now  ready 
for  the  sacrifice.  She  starts  and  turns  in  alarm,  for 
a  hand  is  laid  gently  on  her  shoulder  and  a  sweet 
voice  bids  her  listen  for  a  moment.  Manohara,  sus- 
pecting the  woman's  purpose,  has  followed  her.  She 
tells  the  mother  her  own  story  of  rescue  from  Ganga's 
23 


354         THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 

arms,  and  points  her  to  Christ  the  Sacrifice  for  sin.  The 
other  listens  eagerly,  then  follows  her  back  to  the  zen- 
ana, her  child  in  her  arms.  I  look  at  the  zenanas  of 
the  city.  They  are  no  longer  harems  but  homes,  joyful 
with  the  laughter  of  merry  children.  The  women  are 
no  longer  slaves,  but  true  wives  and  mothers.  My  own 
reason  answers  the  question.  "Why  is  this?"  The 
Gospel  has  converted  the  men  and  made  them  sympa- 
thetic husbands  and  fathers.  Aided  by  the  same  means 
Manohara's  influence  has  elevated  the  women  to  their 
true  sphere,  and  girls  are  no  more  a  curse,  nor  widows 
condemned  to  shame. 

What  is  that  massive  structure  outside  the  gate  look- 
ing so  neglected  and  lonely?  Ah  !  I  see  now  the  stone 
wheels,  red  with  human  blood.  But  it  moves  no  more. 
The  Gospel  has  chained  its  wheels,  and  the  smile  of 
Juggernaut  is  a  burlesque  of  the  past.  Robert  Stuart 
has  cut  the  great  cable  with  his  sword.  My  soul 
expands  with  delight  as  I  see  the  great  cities  illumined 
by  the  Gospel ;  but  I  shudder  to  see  the  black  pall  that 
still  hangs  over  the  country  and  the  inland  towns. 
From  every  direction  come  the  earnest  cries,  "  Send  us 
light,  for  we  wander  in  darkness !  "  And  the  answer 
comes  from  the  toiling  missionaries,  "  Only  be  patient. 
The  harvest  is  great,  but  the  laborers  few.  We  are 
praying  God  to  send  us  more  candle-sticks  to  bear  the 
light.  Lord,  open  up  the  hearts  of  Thy  people  to  behold 
the  darkness  around  us,  and  send  them  to  our  relief !  " 

My  soul  burns  within  me.  Oh !  that  I  had  a  thou- 
sand tongues  to  tell  the  "  Story  of  Jesus  and  His  love  " 
to  these  perishing  ones !  Will  my  countrymen  never 
awake  to  their  duty?    Arise,  ye  that  slumber!    Ye  Sol- 


THE  CHILD  OF  THE  GANGES. 


355 


diers  of  the  Cross,  who  have  enlisted  under  the  banner 
of  Prince  Immanuel,  see  ye  not  the  kingdom  of  your 
Master  occupied  by  Satan's  barbaric  hosts?  Behold, 
the  dawn  approacheth.  When  the  golden  hue  of  the 
Millenial  morn  shall  illuminate  the  Oriental  hill-tops, 
and  the  effulgent  beams  of  the  Sun  of  Righteousness 
shall  reveal  the  iniquity  of  the  dark  valleys,  will  He 
find  you  sleeping?     Oh,  awake  !  awake ! 

With  that  methought  a  cloud  skirted  the  mountain 
side,  shutting  off  the  scene  below ;  and  bidding  fare- 
well to  the  Children  of  the  Ganges,  I  awoke  in  my 
own  room. 


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Rev.  C.  H.  Spurgbon, 
writes: 

41  Crowded  with  facts 
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series  in  our  last  issue, 
and  a  further  examina- 
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commendation,  and  to 
urge  the  placing  of  this 
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SAMUEL  CROWTHER,   the  Slave  Boy  who  became  Bishop  of 

the  Niger.    By  Jesse  Page,  author  of  "  Bishop  Patterson." 
THOMAS   J.  COMBER,  Missionary   Pioneer  to  the  Congo.      By 

Rev.  J.  B.  Myers,  Association  Secretary  Baptist  Missionary  Society. 
BISHOP  PATTESON,  the  Martyr  of  Melanesia.  By  Jesse  Page. 
GRIFFITH    JOHN,    Founder    of   the   Hankow  Mission,  Central 

China.    By  Wm.  Robson,  of  the  London  Missionary  Society.    . 
ROBERT  MORRISON,  the   Pioneer  of   Chinese  Missions.      By 

Wm.  J.  Townsend,  Sec.  Methodist  New  Connexion  Missionary  Soc'y. 
ROBERT  MOFFAT,  the  Missionary  Hero  of  Kuruman.    By  David 

J.  Deane,  author  of  "  Martin  Luther,  the  Reformer,"  etc. 
WILLIAM    CAREY,  the   Shoemaker  who  became  a  Missionary. 

By  Rev.  J.  B.  Myers,  Association  Secretary  Baptist  Missionary  Society. 
JAMES    CHALMERS,    Missionary    and    Explorer  of  Rarotonga 

and  New  Guinea.  Bv  Wm.  Robson,  of  the  London  Missionary  Soc'y. 
MISSIONARY  LADIES  IN  FOREIGN  LANDS.     By  Mrs.  E.  R. 

Pilman,  author  of  "  Heroines  of  the  Mission  Fields,"  etc. 
JAMES  CALVERT ;  or,  From  Dark  to  Dawn  in  Fiji. 
JOHN  WILLIAMS,  the  Martyr  of  Erromanga.    By  Rev, 

J.  J.  Ellis. 
HENRY  MARTYN,  His  Life  Labors.    By  Jesse  Page. 

UNIFORM  WITH  THE  ABOVE. 

DAVID  LIVINGSTON,  His  Labors  and  his  Legacy. 

By  Arthur  Montefiore,   F.  R.  G.  S. 

JOHN   BRIGHT,  the  Man  of  the  People.     By  Jesse  Page, 
author  of  "Bishop  Patteson,"    "Samuel  Crowther,"  etc. 

HENRY  M.  STANLEY,  the  African  Explorer.    By  Ar- 
thur Montefiore,  F.  R.  G.  S.     Brought  down  to  1890. 

WICLIFFEand  LUTHER;  A  Story  of  two  Noble  Lives. 


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AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  JOHN  G.  PATON.  Missionary  to  the 
New  Hebrides.  Introductory  note  by  Arthur  T.  Pierson,  D.D. 
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"  I  have  just  laid  down  the  most  robust  and  the  most  fascinating:  piece  of  auto- 
biography that  I  have  met  with  in  many   a  day It  is  the  story  of  the 

wonderful  work  wrought  by  John  G.  Paton,  the  famous  missionary  to  the  New 
Hebrides;  he  was  made  of  the  same  stuff  with  Livingstone." — T.  L.  Cuylek. 

"  It  stands  with  such  books  as  those  Dr.  Livingstone  gave  the  world,  and 
shows  to  men  that  the  heroes  of  the  cross  are  not  merely  to  be  sought  in  past 
ages," — Christian  Intelligencer. 

THE  LIFE  OF  JOHN  KENNETH  MACKENZIE.  Medical 
Missionary  to  China  ;  with  the  story  of  the  First  Chinese  Hospital 
by  Mrs.  Bryson,  author  of  "Child  Life  in  Chiuese  Homes,"  etc. 
12mo.,  cloth,  400  pages,  price  $1.50  with  portrait  in  photogravure. 

"The  story  of  a  singularly  beautiful  life,  sympathetically  and  ably  written. 
.    .    .    .     A  really  helpful,  elevating  book."—  London  Missionary  Chronicle. 

"The  volume  records  much  that  is  fresh  and  interesting  bearing  on  Chinese 
customs  and  manners  as  seen  and  vividly  described  by  a  missionary  who  had 
ample  opportunities  of  studying  them  under  most  varied  circumstances  and 
conditions.1'— Scotsman. 

THE  GREATEST  WORK  IN  THE  WORLD.  The  Evangeliza- 
tion of  all  Peoples  in  the  Present  Century.  By  Eev.  Arthur  T. 
Pierson,  D.D.     12mo.,  leatherette,  gilt  top,  35c. 

The  subject  itself  is  an  inspiration,  but  this  latest  production  of  Dr.  Pierson 
thrills  with  the  life  which  the  Master  Himself  has  imparted  to  it.  It  will  be  a 
welcome  addition  to  Missionary  literature. 

THE   CRISIS  OF   MISSIONS.     By  Rev.   Arthur  T.  Pierson,   D.D. 

Cloth,  $1.25  ;  paper,  35c. 

"  We  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  this  book  is  the  most  purposeful,  earnest  and 
intelligent  review  of  the  mission  work  and  field  which  has  ever  been  given  to  the 
Church." — Christian  Statesman. 

MEDICAL  MISSIONS.  Their  Place  and  Power.  By  John  Lowe, 
F.  K.  C-  S.  E.,  Secretary  of  the  Edinburgh  Medical  Mission  Society. 
12mo.,  308  pages,  cloth,  $1.50. 

"This  book  contains  an  exhaustive  account  of  the  benefits  that  may,  and  in 
point  of  fact  do,  accrue  from  the  use  of  the  medical  art  as  a  Christian  agency.  Mr. 
Lowe  is  eminently  qualified  to  instruct  us  in  this  matter,  having  himself  been  so 
long  engaged  in  the  same  field." — From  Introduction  by  Sir  William  Muir. 

ONCE    HINDU:      NOW    CHRISTIAN.     The  early   life  of   Baba 
Padmanji.     Translated  from  the  Marathi.    Edited  by  J.  Murray  Mit- 
chell, M.  A.,  LLD.     12mo.,  155  passes,  with  appendix.     Cloth,  75c. 
"  A  more  instructive  or  more  interesting  narrative  of  a  human  soul,  once  held 
firmly  in  the  grip  of  oriental  superstition,  idolatry  and  caste,  gradually  emerging 
into  the  light,  liberty  and  peace  of  a  regenerate  child  of  God,  does  not  often  come 
to  hand:" — Missionary  Herald. 

AN  INTENSE  LIFE.  By  George  F.  Herrick.  A  sketch  of  the  life 
and  work  of  Eev.  Andrew  T  Prattt,  M.D.,  Missionary  of  the  A.  B. 
C.  F.  M.,  in  Turkey,  1852-1872.     16mo.,  cloth,  50c. 


new  york,  :  :   Fleming  H.  ReDell  Company   :  •  Chicago. 


Important  Missionary  Publications 

(Continued.) 


EVERY-DAY  LIFE  IN  SOUTH  INDIA,  or,  the  Story  of  Coopoo- 
swamev.  An  Autobiography.  With  fine  engravings  by  E.  Whym- 
per.     12mo.,  cloth,  $1.00. 

THE  CHILDREN  OF  INDIA.  Written  for  children  by  one  of 
their  friends.  Illustrations  and  map.  Small  4to  ,  cloth,  $1,25. 
"These  are  good  books  for  the  Sunday-School  Library,  and  will  help  young 
people  in  missionary  societies  who  desire  to  have  an  intelligent  idea  of  the  people 
in  India  whom  they  are  sending  their  money  and  their  missionaries  to  convert."  — 
Missionary  Herald 

HINDUISM,  PAST  AND  PRESENT.     With  an  account  of  recent 

Hindu  reformers,   and  a  brief  comparison  between  Hinduism  and 

Christianity.     By  J.  Murray  Mitchell,  M.A.,  LLD.     12mo.,  cloth, 

$1.60. 

"A  praiseworthy  attempt  to  present  a  popular  view  of  a  vast  and  important 

ubject."— Saturday  Review. 

GOSPEL  ETHNOLOGY.  With  illustrations.  By  S.  E.  Paterson, 
F.  G.  S.     12mo,  cloth.,  $1.00. 

"  The  first  attempt  to  treat  this  subject  from  a  thorough-going  scientific  stand- 
point. A  very  powerful  argument  for  the  truth  of  Christianity.  '"—English  Church- 
man. 

"A  book  to  refer  to  for  information  not  easily  to  be  obtained  otherwise.— 
Church  Missionary  Intelligencer. 

NATIVE  LIFE  IN  SOUTH  INDIA.     Being  sketches  of  the  social 

and  religious  characteristics  of  the  Hindus.      By  the  Rev.  Henry 

Rice.      With  many  illustrations  from  native  sketches.     12mo.,  cloth 

boards,  $1.00. 

"  Those  who  have  heard  Mr.  Rice's  missionary  addresses  will  be  prepared  to 

hear  that  this  is  a  fascinating  book."— Life  and  Work. 

CHRISTIAN  PROGRESS  IN  CHINA.  Gleanings  from  the  writ- 
ings and  speaches  of  many  workers.  By  Arnold  Foster,  B.A., 
London  Missionary,  Hankow.  With  map  of  China.  12rao.,  cloth, 
$1.00. 

AMONG  THE  MONGOLS.     By  Rev.  James  Gilmour,  M.A.,  London 
Mission,    Peking.      Numerous    engravings    from    photographs  and 
native  sketches.     12mo.,  gilt  edges,  cloth,  $1.00. 
"The  newness  and  value  of  the  book  consists  solely  in  its  Defoe  quality,  that 

when  you  have  read  it  you  know,  and  will  never  forget,  all  Mr.  Gilmour  knows 

and  tells  of  how  Mongols  live."— Spectator. 

EVERY-DAY  LIFE  IN  CHINA,   or,  Scenes  along  River  and  Road 
in  the  Celestial  Empire.     By  Edwin  J.  Dukes.     Illustrations  from 
the  author's  sketches.     12mo.,  with  embellished  cover,  $2.00. 
That  China  is  a  mvsterious  problem  to  all  who  interest  themselves  in  its  affairs 

is  the  only  excuse  for  offering  another  book  on  the  subject. 


new  york.  ::  Fleming  H.  Reoell  Company  : :  Chicago. 


MISSIONARY  ANNALS. 

I. 

MEMOIR  OF  ROBERT  MOFFAT. 

BY  M.    L.    WILDER. 
II. 

LIFE  OF  ADONIRAM  JUDSON, 

BY  JULIA  H.    JOHNSTON. 
III. 

WOMAN  AND  THE  GOSPEL  IN  PERSIA. 

BY  REV.  THOMAS  LAURIE,    D.    D. 
IV. 

LIFE  OF  REV.  JUSTIN    PERKINS,   D.   D. 

BY  REV.    HENRY  MARTYN  PERKINS. 
V. 

DAVID  LIVINGSTONE, 

BY    MRS.     J.      H.      WORCESTER,     JR. 
VI. 

HENRY  MARTIN  AND  SAML.  J.  MILLS. 

BY  MRS.    S.   J.    RHEA  AND  ELIZABETH  G.   STRYKER. 

VII. 

WILLIAM  CAREY, 

BY  MARY  E.    FARWELL. 
VIII. 

MADAGASCAR. 

BY  BELLE  MC  PHERSON  CAMPBELL. 
IX. 

THE  LIFE  OF  ALEXANDER  DUFF. 

BY  ELIZABETH  B.    VERMILYE. 


Price  per  volume:  Cloth  30c,  Paper  18c. 

Sent  Postpaid  on  Receipt  of  Price. 


FLEMING   H.  REVELL  COMPANY, 

CHICAGO,  I  NEW  YORK, 

148  &  150  MADISON   STREET.  30   UNION  SQUARE  E. 

Publishers  Evangelical  Literatmre. 


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